Lives Slip Silently By

Two of our men passed away this weekend and again, as reading the obituaries, I get a broader view of their lives. The one I have taken care of since I started there and he gave me some of the nicest proposals, but he always remembered I was married-"Will there ever be a chance for us?" He rejoiced in my writing accomplishments. I rejoiced not that he remembered me, but that he remembered. I knew some of his story, but not all. 
The other one, I had no idea of his background, because he was new and I didn't get to know him well. His story amazed me. We never know a background when we first meet. And as a person grows quiet, losing memory and approaching death, I don't know much of their stories as I care for them.
So even though I had planned on another post, I feel it has to wait, as I republish this poem I wrote about another death. The stories behind these end of life people I push pills into are often not known until after they have departed. I wish I often had more time with them.

Lives Slip Silently By

By

Mollie Lyon

 Lives slip silently by.

Who knows what's

Behind that hollow eye,

In dark recesses

Lie past successes.

Gray heads bent

Troubles for a time lent.

We can't see them now

Under that vacant brow.

A sketchy obituary

Read in the paper

Tells some of the story,

But then it's late to know.

We can't reach in.

Sometimes we can't begin.

No one around to start the story

And we find out too late

The story trapped

Behind a precious one's fate.

As Death stalks our hallways again, I wonder at the lives we touch, and the lives that touch us

My father-in-law, memory gone, with my daughter, "Good bye, for now Grandpa."

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