the quality of light that morning
stilled time, after days by her bedside,
listening to the stories in her breath ~
i heard her plants talking too, felt her
osteoarthritis in the settling of the house

they came to take her away; a blue
cover, feet peeking out, worn, plump,
pale in the sunrise, i walked before the
gurney, tossed rose petals from my heart,
gave her one last wet baby kiss …

….twenty years past

still i listen, i wait

sometimes i hear her voice on the wind, i feel
her arthritis in my bones; and always, i walk on her
worn feet, see her smile from my son’s eyes …

© 2017, poem and illustration, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved




  1. How beautiful and deeply inspired. My grandmother spent her adult years from age 30 to 74 mostly in bed due to a disease which deteriorated her muscles. She was spiritual, wise and loving and to this day she remains my teacher

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I have experienced loss, along with the lingering presence of the one I have lost.
    Love will keep others with us beyond the grave; it is a comfort to us, yet we will mourn. Thank you for this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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