Death Is An Inconsiderate Lover

It all results in tears
One kind word, one instance of incompetence
That receptionist, anyones disappointment
Spoken, written, imagined, remembered
I can't make my friend
Do the things I think
Will save her life

I must not show my complete disappointment
I'm not sure I can live without her
Last night the tree removal guy called

Words make me cry, like the word deadline
The tree guys were an hour late today and I was
Screaming by the time they got here
Only one hour late for tradesmen
That's not bad, yet I feel responsible
I could not take her
Feed her what she what wanted
She wants so little in the larger scheme of things

She wants the food she wants from the store she wants
Is that so hard? The tree guys were only an hour late
They worked fast and efficiently without damaging my roof
Or fence and their competence makes me cry
My sense of guilt makes me cry.
Why must I always be guilty?
Never quite good enough. Is it like my mother said?

I offered them fresh cold watermelon cut in bite sized pieces
Cold cokes and water and their thirst made me cry
In seconds the watermelon was gone and I feel so sorry
That they don't get better treatment from women like me
And why do I assume that?

This is disappointment mixed with a dash of terror
It should be me. I'd decline all but hospice care
Not because of cost or debt or obligation or estate
Is it because I've chased you death like a needy lover?
So now you strike my innocent friend. Is that how we play
This final game of longing and regret? Does it all end in disappointment?

Now This is A' Cappella

Thanks for sending this to me Scott. The first few seconds and tears start flowing. The opening is is a very moving sound. It makes me feel human again.

I'm starting to unravel. But I have an emergency therapy appointment tomorrow morning with my very generous therapist Fred who has given me his cell phone number in case I really need to talk and there is no one who can understand this pain, this fear, this rage. Thank you Fred.

Thanks to all of you who have looked in on me and left a kind word.

Anita, I'm sorry I disappointed you. You may have thought I was actually a better person than I am. I wish I had lived up to your expectation of me. But I'm just one very imperfect and frightened old woman. Please forgive me.