Mystery

I hold his hand tightly, my eyes locked in his.

We speak age-old words

For better or for worse; until death do us part.

How does God make two one?

We’ve planned this day for months

and can’t stop grinning.

A weighty moment

but I don’t grasp,

I can’t comprehend

how much changed in that instant.

I am a wife.

I hold tightly to her slippery body, my lips on her damp head.

She wails her first breath,

Flails tiny hands, missing comforting resistance.

How did part of me and part of him make this perfect human?

We’ve anticipated this day for months;

he’s choked up; I’m smiling.

A weighty moment

but I don’t grasp,

I can’t comprehend

how much changed in that instant.

I am a mom.

I hold him tightly, leaning over the bed, my cheek pressed into his hair.

He gasps his last breath.

I hold him, but I can’t keep him here.

I turn off the oxygen; silence drops into the room.

I’ve grieved the coming of this day for months,

watched the slow dying; now, I have no tears.

A weighty moment

but I don’t grasp,

I can’t comprehend

how much changed in that instant.

I am a widow.