The Ending

The Ending

On her last day Clara wakes, unable to speak. She walks unsteadily, we settle her down in the front bedroom. We gather round her, tell her we love her, hug her, look into her eyes, hold her steady gaze.

She loses consciousness, lies peacefully breathing for some hours, stops breathing. It is 3:19pm Thursday 25^th January 2007.

AFTER 19. Make a wish

AFTER

19. MAKE A WISH

Day after she died.

House filled with bustle

Family, friends

Organising, preparing food, talking

Making the arrangements.

Merridy arrives

(Merridy the beaming, bubbly

Patient support at hospital

Always so kind to Clara

Cheering her, joking, helping).

Today Merridy has brought assorted fruit

We set it out on a dish

There are blackberries

As we each take one, Merridy pipes brightly

“Make a wish!”

Pop blackberry into my mouth

Flavour explodes there

I scan… what to wish?

Freeze, berry suddenly dead in my mouth?

Heart aches all over again

Only one thing to wish for

Only one

Oh Clara!

I wish you were here, now

With this jolly crew,

Alive and well.

What else could I wish?

Merridy still smiling expectantly at me

“I don’t know what to wish for”

I mumble and turn away.

3 September 2009

ENDING 18. Clara laughs

18. CLARA LAUGHS

Final days

We know the end is near

Clara drifting down

In our home

Friends, family, helpers

Come and go

Bringing kindness, care

Food, hugs, help

All these people being

So good to us

House filled with love and laughter

My heart aches with sorrow

Yet aches with love and joy

A beautiful, terrible time

We are anxious

Miserably waiting for the unhappy ending

(Yet a small part still hoping

Maybe she will turn a corner

Maybe there will be a miracle)

Clara herself is sometimes sad, thoughtful

Steadily weaker, ill, can barely walk

Yet she radiates love, loving us all

And she laughs.

From her bedroom

I hear her laughter ringing out

Tinkling, bright and joyful

She is joking with Rose

They laugh

Clara laughs, full and free

Clara taught me

On the edge of blackness

What else can we do?

What else

But sing, dance, tell our stories

Paint our pictures

Facing the abyss

We must love

And laugh

Monday, Clara’s anniversary 2016

Mother’s bedside,

Yackandandah

Mother is sleeping, the final stages. I am calm, reflecting on Clara’s final days, hours.

I wrote the first draft of this poem on the 9^th anniversary of Clara’s death. I was with my dying mother. As she slept, fading slowly, I ruminated on dying, recalled Clara’s last days, remembered her laughter.