February 26, 2020

A Simple Poem about Sitting with my Mom During her Passing.

Everything is alright, already.


I sat with you while you were dying.

All those minutes, hours, days,

Consciousness drifting in and out for us both.

Your eyes milky and distant, piercing and desperate;

My heart open, yet protected.

Our being together was a well-rehearsed

Vacant attachment, interwoven with love and intimacy.

It was easy and difficult.

I reassured you in ways you were never able to comfort me:

“Everything is alright, already.”

“Nowhere to be, nothing to do, just rest now.”


On the last day in January, during the early morning hours

You let go.

Just as I closed my eyes in exhaustion,

You left so quietly.

Your letting go came only after

A mighty struggle to stay.


When they came for you,

The blue moon looked on.

With care and skill, they wrapped your frail body inside a sheet.

When they took off your rings,

I asked for the one always worn on your right hand.

With no hesitation, I slipped your ring onto my finger;

No wonder, that ring fit me just the same as you.


I wore your ring until your birthday in late May,

Until that segment of grief had rounded itself out.

And some small reassurance floated into my awareness,

A whisper saying,

“Nothing left to do, nowhere to be, rest now.”

“Everything is alright, already.”



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Beth A. Smith  |  Contribution: 750

author: Beth A. Smith

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