Not Ready To Say Goodbye

This is no quiet contemplation

As my body is racked with my keening sobs.

It happened rather quickly, you see,

From a stage four diagnosis to the day when my life may end.

Is this how it goes?

Not a series of flashes?

More like reminders?

.

In the end, there’s a journey,

Just taken in reverse.

We revisit all the moments,

Even those that might’ve once felt like a curse.

.

They’re the moments that made us

Who we are,

In the here and now.

The reminders of all that we’ve lived through

And yet, survived, somehow.

.

I expected flashes,

Visions of joy,

Some may be of regret,

For the moments lived

And of those not achieved, yet.

.

The memories of love,

Of those treasured and gone.

Now they’ve all returned.

They are here, on another plane,

Or perhaps they only exist

Somewhere deep in my heart, inside my brain?

.

They told me it is time,

The wait, it won’t be very long.

They said they’ve come here now to help me move along.

Their warmth enveloped me,

It welcomed me like a song.

.

Still, I’m scared to leave.

Not yet ready to go on my way.

The depth of their love feels like a gentle reminder

Of where I now belong.

I just wish they would wait,

That I could have even one more day.

.

I told them, “I’m not ready though!”

Will I ever be?

So many years of holding on,

With no choice, always told to “just stay strong!”

Now, it’ll be gone for all time,

The happiness along with the pain,

And I’m not ready to move on.

My body is battling with my brain.

My heart and brain are determined to stay,

While the rest is winding down.

.

There are years yet to live!

I’m not ready to be underground!

More cherished memories to be made!

Please, just allow me even one more decade!

.

My children are not yet grown.

Even if they were,

There’s no substitute for their mother.

Nor her care, support, and compassion.

I cannot just leave them to be raised by another.

.

They need me so.

They need their mother,

And truth be told, I need them too.

.

I love all of you,

But I’m not ready to say adieu.

Whether this illness was long

Or only a blink of time,

As it’s seemingly been in mine,

I’ll never be ready

To leave this all behind.

.

I’m not ready for goodbye.

Please, can’t you see the tears in my eyes?

Sure, I’ve spent years wishing we’d be together again,

But please understand

This is not what I meant.

I’m not ready for their goodbyes,

Not ready to watch my babies cry,

To see them standing at my bedside,

Watching my body wither as I die.

.

They need me so.

Truth be told, I need them too.

So please, give us more time.

Please slow this awful illness of mine.

Better yet, allow me to go back in time.

.

Urge the doctors to look closer,

To figure out the diagnosis before my condition worsened beyond repair.

Can’t you see this Mama’s desperate despair?

I’m not ready to go.

Not yet ready for goodbye.

. . .

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This poem was originally published on Medium.