Dad is slipping
Away
Bit by Bit
One excruciating piece at a time
The obsessively neat and tidy one
Whose sock drawer was the impossible gradient of rolls from white
to black
doesn’t shower
And leaves his pants on the floor … when he wears them
And his shit in the toilet … when he uses is.
He lays in a bed trying to remember his words
and names
As he slips away, I slip with him
Bit by Bit
His sentences are lost, his words, his “I love yous”
I slip and slide as the man who held me on his wide shoulders slips away
I grieve the man who brought my mom flowers and diamonds
Who danced and twirled
Who whistled and cheered and called the plays
Who opened doors and fought off monsters. Mine and his.
And yet…
Each day
He orders a sandwich from the nursing home kitchen
And waits with his peanut butter and jelly for his love.
She arrives and sits
She holds his hand - more skeleton than flesh
And he takes the bread, and breaks it
And gives her half
And there together as their 61 year old love affair slips away in shit and antiseptic
They eat
This is his body - broken - given for her
This is their eucharist
Their holy communion