A few days with Marjorie

Marjorie with family, July 2014

I knew time was short, and I knew she was quite ill,

Though I didn’t expect it. I prayed she’d win the fight.

That dreaded phone call, the news shook me still.

The earth as I know it got a little bit darker tonight.

For those of you who knew her better

For those of you who knew her worse

For those who knew her different than I

My experiences led to this little verse

For me, most mornings started with a prayer at the kitchen table.

I felt she’d always be there, prepared, as long as she was able.

There’d be eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, jams and all of the juices.

Conversation would follow; simple, honest, pure, no excuses.

If the day called for no place to be, then sit for a bit we would,

And share stories from now, and then, when times were good.

I’d say my piece but try the most to listen, seeking a glance

At a generations’ lifetime hidden away like a secret romance.

My mind’s eye would paint, and piece the visions together.

Not entirely sure if the story, or my movie, which was better.

Either way I longed for more, a history lesson of what was.

Hoping my clumsy mind wouldn’t fumble the why and because.

Days came and went; visits, drives, family and so much more.

Late into the night we’d sit and talk, reviewing pictures galore.

Stories were passed down, names listed, that I’ll never recall.

Her smile, her easy laugh, and selfless rhythm would enthral.

The places, the people, but rarely the reasons, she’d remember.

Conscious of this gift to me, was my time with this girl of December.

My sample size may be small but telling for sure, just listen;

Maybe watch, always learn and you’d see too all we’re missin.

A few days with Marjorie, and it was quite plain to me,

The evidence was all there, examples how to live, a potpourri.

Things do not forever stay the same, and I write to protest.

I pray for this, to engage and learn while walking among the best.