Passing

Passing

So many similarities—
The way they sleep so much,
Struggle to open their eyes,
Their gaunt frames,
Flailing limbs,
Iridescently thin skin,
Shallow, rapid breath.

They are so delicate,
These two,
Our tiny, born-too-soon granddaughter
And her great grandmother.
Both are on the verge of life,
One entering, one leaving.

They are both here with us,
But live also
In the in-between,
A place where those of us,
Planted so firmly in the middle,
Cannot remember.

Mya’s parents call her in—
Come, come, they gently sing.
They cradle her to their hearts,
Reminding her to breathe
Until her entrance
Is complete.
My husband lifts his mother
Into bed each night,
Sits next to her in silence
As she drifts between worlds.

Each makes the journey
In her own way,
Taking the time she needs.

Patience, patience
As we watch and wait.

One cannot help but wonder
If they greet each other
On the passing,
If they exchange something,
Perhaps,
And what that might be?

Two souls whose bodies
Share the same blood
At different ends
Of the same journey.

 

By Maria Brady-Smith

16 thoughts on “Passing

  1. I love this poem so much, Maria. You are so blessed with such a special talent, to be able to capture meaningful and important moments in such a eloquent way. ❤️
    Love the pictures too- perfect!

  2. What Monica said, exactly.
    This poem is insight perfection.
    So tender and true to me.
    Now I need to sit on the porch with it
    For a little while.❤️

  3. Thank you Maria. The image of Mya and mom passing on their journeys is beautiful.

  4. Maria, that is beautiful. It reminds me of my mother’s last hours with us.

    1. Thank you, Judy. This poem really did pretty much write itself. Thanks for your kindness!

  5. Such a touching poignant poem! Circle of life – so beautiful that you bring it all together.

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