Epilogue
I remember being loved very much
Of loving you too in the day, in the night and . . .
And I remember waking in the early morning
Before the sun rose
Before the moon fell
I remember watching the sighing of moonlight across your skin
How it rained just for us, for you in March
And how the skies shaded the sun on that one-day in October so slightly
I remember our children
And Mary
Rhane
I remember our first child and the way you smiled in those first moments
I remember
In the sighing of my life I remember you
Watching over me
Loving me
Always loving me
And . . .
I remember dying
Growing old together with laughter and tears
Of looking back on our life together
Of being eighty-four summers old and new
Of celebrating your eighty-third autumn and spring
With our children
And our grandchildren with their squealing laughter and “Nana, Nana!”
I remember my last breath
And how my eyes fell upon you to the last
I remember dying
My story . . .
It was supposed to end there
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