I dealt death today.
I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.
I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their
Roaring grief.
They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.
And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.
And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.
But I took it with me today.
The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.
I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.
Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it
Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands
I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice
Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.
Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.
I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.
I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided