How does one write about
death? How does one reveal one’s innermost fears and concern for loved ones who
are struggling with life and death issues?
We make it through
Christmas with baklava and Indian food and good times with family.
We visited Tucson Botanical
Garden’s butterfly pavilion.
We fed the ducks in Reid Park.
We fed the ducks in Reid Park.
We shopped for furniture,
but didn’t buy.
But always, perched on our
shoulders like a vulture was the knowledge that someone we love is
desperately ill and may not survive. Oh, I know, to be born is to die, but when
it comes, it is as if no one had ever died before.
Copyright
2015 by Shirley Domer
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