chronic 
for T

she spends hours coloring mandalas 
in adult coloring books from Amazon,
dozens of them, I’ve lost count over time,
she needs them, she says, they help
to keep her mind from dwelling on the pain…
incessant, excruciating pain
sometimes late at night I hear the sharpener
grinding wood and pencil lead…
grinding, grinding, grinding
and occasionally, deep moans as she shifts position
the sound makes the dogs bark
and the cats scatter to the shadows
I can’t begin to imagine it, 
my aching arthritic knees seem trivial
to the monster that consumes this once
brilliant, vibrant, caretaker of others 
who now depends on others, on me, for everything 
I can’t begin to know when it may become 
too much for her to fight this impossible fight
try as I might to ease the burdens of life
I’m powerless to stop the pain…so…
I keep buying coloring books and pencils
and I cook her favorite things,
pork chops, Dutch babies, sweetened coffee cream, Italian ice cups
and I help her complete little tasks and big ones
like getting the band on that citizen’s watch 
adjusted to her shrinking wrist
I’m not a watch wearer but she has always been
and it was important to her, I could tell…
little things…are sometimes very big deals
in sickness and in health, I once said
and meant it…til death…
an unwelcome visitor who taunts her daily
as I do my best to hold things together
to try to make things better
in these worst of times…do us part

~kat