When my mother was dying
I was hard
she had a stroke
lay on her back
mouth open
a nurse said
the wider it opens
the closer to death
she looked both ways: -
"don’t listen to the doctors"
my mother was 87
came a long way here
never wanted dependency
surrounded by strangers
I was hard like she made me
the doctor wanted to operate
for what?
to cut out the cancer
repair the radiation damage
so she could die of stroke
a tracheotomy
a feeding tube
a respirator
a whopping fee
the nurses folded their eyes down
"Don’t touch her," I said.
his eyebrows went up
I looked at him hard
he backed away
ruffling his papers
"she’ll starve to death
it’s a painful way"
he began again
tsk tsk sharp in his voice
I turned my back
she died in the night
hungry
alone
glad to be rid of us
she turned her back

Helen Ruggieri has a chapbook, Glimmer Girls, (Mayapple Press) and a prose chapbook of haibun, The Character for Woman, from Foothills Publishing. She writes a humor column for Madhatters Review.




 

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  Helen

  Ruggieri