People often tell me they’ve never met someone like me
But they won’t remember me
I have to introduce myself a dozen times
I’m always someone else’s “twin”
It’s as if I slip right between their fingers
It’s as if my face doesn’t match my soul

Again today confronts me
As if a wall rose with the sun
Would it be better to know when is the last
Or for the last moments to slip away quietly
To be recalled alone in bed decades from now
Over a hot tea or a glass of brandy
Is it better to know or know not
Ironically I may never decide

Being a caregiver is so much about relinquishing control
Control over their choices
Control over time
Control over the rest of the team
It’s about tempering disappointment
It’s becoming a sponge for hurt and pain
It’s finding humor in the darkest places
Finding love in loss

I can never be who I was before this
I cannot stop seeing their pain
Hearing their hearts
Knowing their limits  

In the most beautiful way the work I saught to feel in control taught me how to let go of it

Another solo flight around the sun
Another birthday candle lit by myself
Another childless purposeless year
Amen

I don’t know why I find myself here again
Yearning for more but also being disgusted by it
Like drooling on a piece of fruit
It’s beautiful it’s healthy it makes you happy but it’s shameful all the same

I accept love in the ways I receive it
I am grateful for love in all the ways it has been shown to me
I’m at peace if romantic love is not a part of my story