May 10 – May 17, 2000
Time is measured in seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days.
Time is the blink of an eye.
Time is what it takes for the pain to go away after an injection.
Time is what is spent zoning in and out of consciousness.
Time is the split second of faint recognition, and the weak smile that follows.
A hand held.
Throat soothed with water.
Parched lips balmed.
Hair combed and then brushed.
I watch her get better, minute by agonizing minute, hour by hour, day by endless day. It is not easy for me to see such pain. I think to myself that I would trade places if I could, but in my heart I know that is a lie, for I could never suffer such pain.
And through it all, she smiles. Not for long. Not easily. But she smiles.
My heart melts.
Time changes some things forever.