Lonely Footsteps

John

Feeling Whole Again


Lonely Footsteps

Lonely footsteps, silent ones,
to and from the hall
Footsteps we walked together
to and from our destination,
morning, noon and night.

We so belonged together,
God's plan for us.
We both knew sorrow,
and were the strong comfort
we needed, sent by God
as a gift to each other.

John, I miss you so much,
Often I feel empty without you
You are no longer at my table
next to me, at activities with me,
on the ambulette, by my side,
across from me,
talking on the phone with me,
walking behind me, in front of me,
or beside me…

— Deanne F. Purcell

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John

Last night you lost your battle with illness.
You lived nine decades plus three
and gave of yourself to everyone
who needed and reached out to you.

You had silver white hair,
that reflected blue
especially when you wore a blue shirt,
your favorite color and mine.

If you went to an Italian restaurant
and could get chocolate mousse cake,
you were a very happy man.
That beautiful smile would light up a room
as though ith bright neons.

You joined in both indoor and outdoor activities
until you no longer could.
You slept most of the time,
and we didn't want to disturb you…
There you sat sleeping like an angel.

You and I took turns walking
each other to our rooms,
sharing conversations, in person
and on the phone.

You loved to grocery shop,
going out to luncheons
with friends and with family
outside and at home.

When I fell and was hospitalized
and later, rehabilitation,
you phoned me and visited me,
brought me pink carnations, my favorite flower.

At the manor we would sit
next to each other at the dining room table
and talk to each other.
We were fast friends for almost six years.

I am in shock that you are gone, finding out
that the inevitable became reality.
But your shining light and presence in my memory
will live on…

— Deanne F. Purcell

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Feeling Whole Again

You now feel whole again
as you should,
Your destiny on the horizon.
Don't forget we all love you,
as you always shared your love.

I still walk where we walked,
Follow your footsteps…
You gave so much to us,
your life and experience.
If we needed your help,
you were there.

Your memory still lives on,
and we won't forget you,
and what you did for us,
and with us.

The other day your photo fell
off my bookcase.
Someone told me
that was your way of saying
goodbye…

I am sorry that I didn't attend
your memorial service,
but they wouldn't let me.
They thought that I should
remember you, as I knew you.
I can't cry, just pray and
write about you.

— Deanne F. Purcell

Poetry Copyright Sept. 21, 2010
by Deanne F. Purcell


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