Devorah

[porphyre]

There’s something about the smell of the place that clings to my skin. Perhaps it’s a disinfectant or the lotion she rubs on her skin. Possibly a mix of them both. Either way, it has become the scent of her dying and it won’t let me sleep. As soon as I am home, I step into the shower to rinse it off, knowing that I am sluicing her touch from my

Comments

Love

[silveredmane]

Devorah and I spoke recently about when she met you. She dropped in unannounced, having driven across town to do so. You and I were having dinner. You were five and delightful. (And cute, but that's an aside.)I already loved you. We were having a "proper" dinner and I was trying to convince you to use your pretty fabric napkin, but like the pauper in the story of The Prince and the Pauper, you didn't want to soil it, so you held it scrunched in your hand, the back of which you used to wipe your mouth.

With the back of your hand still in front of your mouth, you smiled up at her, a flash of brightness in my shabby, overdecorated kitchen. She said hello, and told me she was going for a little walk and would be back in half an hour or so. When she got back you had gone back to your apartment across the hall. She said "I can see why you like her." I said "I love her" and she said she could see why I would. She's always been that kind of perceptive.

It's a long time that I've loved you, Jhayne. I hope that you're very sure of that; that I'm another of the people on this planet for whom loving you is a sure and eternal thing.

I'm so grateful that you're part of my life, and so grateful that you're tending to Devorah. I know it tears pieces out of your soul. The pieces her dying tears out of my soul are a little less ragged, because you're there, holding her and easing her way.

Thank you.

I love you.

your G-dmother

[porphyre]

This is what I've been trying to take to heart this week:

"We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it."
- Rilke