The tears flowed in steady streams, as if they might challenge the hydration of those whose sad faces filled the room. Like most hospice rooms, there was plenty of space, and on this quiet Spring day, with blooms blooming, chirpers chirping, and sounds sounding everywhere, all the space was occupied by those closest to him, come for one last poem, one last story, and one last laugh.
Finally, his weary eyes, still shining, came to rest on her.
"Even though you loved me first," he said as they were about to part again, "I loved you best."
She took his right hand in hers, as she looked through her tears, clouding her view.
"Hasta manana, mi amor," he said, and closed those eyes one last time.
May 5, 2009.
Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.