Please.
Come to see me when I die.
Before the flames and heat make it impossible,
come and see me.
While you have the chance to see my face and touch my hand.
Not for my sake, but for yours,
tell my now unhearing ears all the words inside you.
Rage or weep.
Whichever helps.
Tell me your dreams and hopes.
Tell me of the regrets and memories you will share when asked about the visit.
Just ask me no questions
for the time that I could help you will have passed.
Sit awhile with me.
I'll be quiet company,
and in your mind place us somewhere bright together.
Feel my gaze on your face as you tell me of your life.
Can you hear my laugh, still?
Or has it faded into the past?
Don't let the miles be too far.
Don't let your schedule make the choice for this visit.
Don't be too busy for this last journey.
Just come to see me when I die.
Let the visit be the help I've always wanted you to have.
The time we spend,
together at last,
heal all hurts.
Perhaps now you are free to hear the words I've always longed to say.
Don't stop yourself;
say whatever you need to say,
or feel free to sit in the silence we created together.
Just,
please.
Don't let me go still waiting.
It will be the last chance.
Please come to see me when I die.
About the Creator
Judey Kalchik
It's my time to find and use my voice.
Poetry, short stories, memories, and a lot of things I think and wish I'd known a long time ago.
You can also find me on Medium
And please follow me on Threads, too!
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Where's the Glory?
In breaking news, rehabilitated Republican Senator Johnnie Johnson (Pronouns: HE, HIM, HIS) called a press conference from the Men’s room of the New Orleans Louis Armstrong International Airport, Concourse B, across from the Ignatius Reilly’s Lucky Dog stand. The Senator had just returned from a sexual reorientation rehabilitation program in Memphis, TN after being publically disgraced at a Buckee’s Truckstop restroom soliciting sex from an undercover cop three months ago. He is a founding member of the Reformed Christians for Christ, a conservative, pro-family and ex-gay advocacy group. In the spirit of being reborn, Senator Johnson invited reporters to marvel at his plans for a major remodeling of airport bathrooms.
By Cathy Schieffelin3 days ago in Humor
Comments (4)
Ah, Ms Kalchik...you always know how to get me deep! This is so very profound...but gentle and kind...beautifully worded and just flows effortlessly, which makes the message easier to read and to take in. Thank you for sharing this one, I needed to read this. I feel like with my Uncle who passed away this week...we never got a chance to see him on his actual death bed...but we saw him last a few months ago when he was still up and chatting...at least I have that memory...even if I never really got a chance to tell him all the things I think of now. Love this so much!
This was powerful Judey… as I began to read, my mind saw my father, and I just had a profound experience. Especially as you write, to say what you need to say… whether it’s something kind or to rage…. (I can’t directly quote from my phone… as soon as I click comment I have to work from my apparently not so detailed memory!!!). I haven’t had this kind of experience from a poem before… it felt very healing to imagine this moment / what I would say/ how I would react etc ❤️
So beautifully poignant, Judey. The essence of every funeral I ever conducted or attended. Let it be a healing balm between/among us, however it might take shape.
Wow. This one hit me in the gut. Sad, but well done.