Something to Die For

Sheila Swan Laufer

I.

Watch, listen to the endless
Repeats, questions answered again
How are the boys? It's hard for them
Mum right now. But looks good. Oh
Great, if they're doing well and happy
Well, their work is as yours was with
Apa. Ours too. Remember? It was chicken
One day feathers the next. She laughs.
That's a good one, I never heard it before.
How are the boys?
(Grown, married or at college)
When will I see you?
You were just here
Thanksgiving, two weeks ago.
She covers. Oh that well sure.
But we didn't have much time
How are the boys doing?
Ended one day the bitterness
Of being watched night and day in her
Home. Said, I'm going to fly Venezuela
Or sell this house, live in a hotel.
Ring for room service. That's what I'll do.
The money won't last Mum.
Get rid of these women I have nothing
In common with them. A terrible cook
That one, what's her name? My house.
How are the boys?
Of the family, none admit this is a
Disease with a name. There's a doctor
In the house of family refusing her the drug
I plead. It could give her a year
Of who she was.
She is not mine. They own her run
Her. This mother given by marriage
I had twenty years. Up nights until
Three in the morning
Talking, loving, happy
Laughing. mine then. Taught me
How to be part of who I am

II.

Just yesterday I woke to speak
Meaning to say not awake yet
Came mouth out, as not open.
Last week the word ladder would
Not come or a fruit so ordinary
Oh I would fly out of this world
Before my children agonize what
To do with me. Last year when
The ER doctor answered my question
No transfusions ? Loss of life
I took them, all six from people
Blessings for the blood. Signed a paper
Half dead, not quite in my mind
Understand, do you? HIV can be
Yours, hepatitis. Want the blood?
It felt an easy way to die. Ulcer
Bleeding without intent. Drink
Some wine, every night. Eat an
Aspirin thinking it is good for the
Heart. As innocent as she
Wine-and-aspirin again and drive
Alone. Rather that, really no pain
After a while, than trapped without
My mind. Slowly by certain knowing
Death comes in either case. Sooner
With a brain not that far gone.
Mind in, sorrowful to leave you
Stay only while I am still able to
Write my loves, my loves
No burden but grief. We grieve
For her living a trapped life
Saying how can I get out of this?
No, that is something to die for
Better than forgetting her chocolate
Cake that everyone always said
Was.