Fractal Dance

 

Our Mother's Face

Our Mother's Face

Our Mother's Voice

by Brad Schrag*

(1)

You stand there. Where you were not supposed to be.

Your confused face pairs well with my dismayed heart

You are here where you should not have been

Three months ago I leaned over your bed

   whispered final words

   kissed you

   walked out of the ICU

(2)

It was supposed to be goodbye

Yet now you stand before me with our Mother's face

“It's me. Your brother Brad.”

Your confusion fades to recognition

“Yes. I remember.“ 

Our Mother's voice

(3)

In the before, you and our Mother did not share a visage.

Your voices did not evoke the other.

Now a deeper genetic has surfaced

You were supposed to be saved from this

(4)

You were not.

(5)

We sit. Mostly yesses and no’s, pauses

We sing some of your music, your soul

Some memories surface, most do not

I think we even laughed once or twice

We remember together

It is as if the refiner tipped the crucible too far and much of the gold that is you spilled out with the dross.

Yet there is still some gold. You are still there.

Content.

(6)

That is enough for this moment

* My brother, Brad, wrote this poem about our sister, Lori. Her Huntington's Disease had been progressing for quite some time, resulting in diminished capacities in many areas of her life. 

Then, this past May, Lori suffered two cardiac arrests, leaving her brain without oxygen for 8-10 minutes. She was placed on life support. The doctors told us there was no organized brain activity and 

no chance of revival. When they took her off of

 life support after three weeks, 

she began breathing on her own and starting responding to stimulus. She is now living in a memory care facility. There is extensive brain damage, but there are still aspects of our sister very much alive. Brad visited her recently, 

and wrote these thoughts about his experience.

He refers to our mother, 

as she also had Huntington's Disease.