i still have vivid memories of how hospital visits had become a norm.

i didn’t know that someone with so much life and charisma could just lay there with machines keeping them alive.

i never understood how the silence in between our chats were the scary words neither of us could say.

this wasn’t you,

this wasn’t how i knew you.

my thoughts, tears and screams struggled to the finish line..

each one hoping to get there first..

i held my fears in my throat and lungs,

i refused to believe the inevitable,

i refused to believe that life had an ending for all of us..

especially an ending for people as beautiful as you.

when i looked in your eyes that day,

it was as if you saw my soul..

as if you could see how it had hidden itself far away,

behind the smile,

behind the laughter,

behind the cheer..

maybe you did see my soul..

& you just didn't know how to tell your daughter that her fear of the inevitable would eventually be tested...

that i would eventually have to listen to somber words telling me to be “strong”

“it will be okay”

“she’s your angel now”.



if i could go back to that day,

i would remember to say goodbye....