The first 100 days
*The First Hundred*
Its 100 days today since my angel broke her wing
She was for this earth, but not of it
Long before seas parted and life churned
She had me on her roster
Her long soft tresses, brown eyes and beautiful face
Smote me. Enchanted me. 42 years ago
She reined me in, dragged me into her goodness
She held me there with great affection.
Never hurt anyone, nor raised voice in anger or despair.
Never forgot to smile or chat with King or knave.
Never missed a beat in prayer or devotion
Never stopped providing those in want or need
Then at the bewitching hour of the 21st midnight
She fell
Silent, hurt, watching me tearfully, fearfully
as she did a slow fade-out.
Her left hand on my trembling right palm loosened
My heart fell
Hurt, incoherent, confused, helpless and angry
I pleaded, heavenwards.
I looked for God all these days, didn’t find
I looked to God, didn’t pray
Ranted and raved for broken wing to quickly heal
Where was God when I needed Him most?
When His angel He sent needed Him most?
She was His in the first place, wasn’t she?
White coats and scalpels opened her up
Sorted out tissues, nerves, neurons.
White coats and scalpels closed her up
Happy at her heavy breathing
Sad for the tonsured wreck being wheeled out
I continue to search, ask, rant, rave.
Myriad questions; no answers.
Seems He sees no reason to respond
Visitors and friends appear in droves
Physio appears, Caregivers appear
Doctors, Healers, Sustenance givers appear
But no God comes along
Glad tidings and caring arms tighten around my shoulders
Gentle palms lightly touch her body and face
Brown eyes open, they smile
She and I see everyone, grateful for every little help
But I see no God
Long brown tresses have long gone
Scars and metal runs along and thru her hair and head
Broken wing, helplessly by her side.
Her eyes dim and sparkle
through pain, hallucinations and hope.
We hold each other, talk through cold nights
Sometimes rolling tears listen to our gasps of despair
Healers, friends, neighbours, prayers, happy vibes don’t stop
But God has.
The wind picks up, feathers rustle
The wing lifts up, ever so slightly
She sits, she stands, her smiles are wider
The soft brown eyes, now unglazed, acknowledge what she is now
Physio, physicians friends attend ceaselessly
Where the hell is God?
Of this I absolutely know.
For sure
My angel’s wing WILL mend
She has me on her roster
She flew down for me with muscle and intent
Her task is still incomplete; I have yet to mend.
Friends, neighbours, prayers, healings, stay unabated
Her wing has gotten stronger,
Her shoulder droop has long gone
Her eyes are sharper, memory is too
Pain and hallucinations have almost gone
But I’ve not stopped asking my Creator
Where the hell are You!
She will read and write again
Her joy for reading, clothes and jewels will resurrect
She will deal with banks and bourse again
She will hold me close with both hands
She will walk to my bedside holding my silly morning tea
Garden and the girls will watch her stride on the podium
My angel knows our lives have changed
My angel’s eyes well up on good times we had
My angel worries for her emotion-ridden Me
My angel holds my hand reassuringly
Smiles confidently through twitches and pain
I've long stopped asking questions
I’ve long stopped seeking answers
She still hurts in her heart; I do too
I seek God’s help. Every moment of the day
I see single set of footprints in the sand
When there should have been two side by side
But I’m blinded
by despair and despondency
I fail to realise He has me on His shoulders
and those single set of footprints are His
I fail to see Him in our Friends, neighbours, prayers, healings.
I fail to see Him through quivering of seemingly dead muscles
Through tentative, then strong, steps as she stands, walks
Through scars and tissue that have now healed
Guess He does keep Alka and me company after all!
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