You Again

You thank me for sitting with you. You apologize for waking me when you don’t feel well. You worry I’m bearing too much of the load. You say you’re sorry for not getting to something before I do. Wonderful, silly girl.

I hear you crying in your quiet space and you wipe your tears as I walk in, then you giggle, embarrassed that I saw. Wonderful, silly girl. Then you beg me not to cry with you. Wonderful, silly girl.

You ask me if I’m okay when you are too sore, sick and tired to eat, too acid filled to sleep, too stuck like a pin cushion to sit still. You ask if I’m hungry or if I want anything when you leave the room for any reason, and insist I don’t have to get up. And you get frustrated with me when I get up anyway. Wonderful, silly girl.

Just like in the beginning, you shyly ask if I love you, worried that between now and the twenty times I’d said it today I may have changed my mind. Wonderful, silly girl.

You are where I live. Your heart is where I call home. Thanking me for being there as you suffer is as silly as thanking your hands for hanging in there. I could be no place else. I will not be parted from you.

You fear I find you a burden, depressing, a drain. You ask if I’d be with you again knowing what we now know, knowing the pain that would follow.

I may have given you a house.
I may have given you a bed.
I may have given you a space to call your own.
But you, wonderful, silly girl, gave me home.

Home dwells in you, this place I live. Without you I am homeless. Without you I am purposeless. Without you I am lifeless, limbless, hopeless. Yes, my sweet, wonderful, silly girl, I would YOU again. And if there are five minutes of life left in you, then in you, where I live, I have five minutes left of home–because there is no home without you.

You are my reason to…

You again. I would You again all my life.


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