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 9th 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.
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