On the new haircut

They admired her new haircut
they all gathered about her,
in church.

The ladies loved,
the new, look.

Little do they understand,
she cut it herself,
this morning. 

Her hair is coming out in handfuls, now.
This is what remains,
after this morning's shower.

The tumor has left her stomach.
He learned of it early in their marriage.
It had remained entombed there, this many years.

It has invaded her optic nerve, now.
Like it invaded their life, before.

How does he live a life, without her?

They fought so many times,
for their marriage,
for their life, together.

Still, there is hope,
that the gardener,
may have brought the cure.

This is the hope they share.
The hope for the cure.
The hope for the children,
for the return of health,
and the hair one day.

I just spend the evening screaming at my father. I just went to put my clean sheets on my bed and found my father has put them in the wash for me. I am angry deeply and do not understand why?

When I married 30 years ago, I never dreamed that I would spend my twilight years caring for my father and visiting my wife on the weekends.

Is it his fault that he simply cannot remember that he just saw me take them out of the dryer? That seeing my wash in the hamper he just wanted to make my life a little simpler by helping me to wash my clothes?

Am I angry that even though I knew it was a possibility, that I can never create new life? That I still feel the deep need to create a new life with my wife even though I wonder if she still feels the same need? That my children no longer need me like I wish they did? That I was never able to adopt my first two sons?

My wife was almost a single mother when we wed. She had a chance to adopt my children's oldest brother, but she, being single with no prospects and living at home, he then went to another, good home. That the next son could have been ours, but grandpa loved him first.

Can I learn to be grateful for the handmaiden who offered us the next two children? I have taught my children to appreciate the gift of life.

That my wife is alive today to visit, and not just a gravesite to put flowers on, this weekend. That I know not why she is alive, but I am grateful, still.

John Denver "I Want to Live"