Haibun

In Prescious Moments Of Lucidity: A Haibun

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for d’Verse Poets where our inspiration
today is “reflection”. Here is my haibun.

Aaron Burden
whose hearts are mountains, roots are trees,
it’s they shall cry hello to the spring
~ e. e. cummings

When I first met David, I was not impressed with his overall appearance … short with a penguinesque walk, receding hairline, black rimmed glasses, nondescript brown suit just a bit too snug, small hands, small feet. He was completely different from my sister’s former boyfriend … the dashing, charismatic, sparkling blue-eyed Billy Mack. But one thing was very clear: David was in love with my sister and she with him. Deep, trusting, emotional love. And so they married; never was there a better couple. Principled in every way, they never thought of themselves. My sister and brother-in-law helped others, cared for them, did for them, cried and laughed with them. They devoted their time and talents, which were many, to their community and their church. They were a constant presence. Unasked and unrewarded, David took it upon himself to make repairs, tear down, rebuild, rewire, rework, give new birth to any broken project or person, restoring new energy and new life. He was a man capable of anything and sought no compensation or reward. He did everything out of the kindness of his heart and my sister was the same. They were tireless, healthy, happy, God-loving people, and in turn, loved by all. Fifty-seven years of true wedded bliss, the happiest couple I have ever known. So how does such a strong, steadfast, and unwavering spirit, much like the unmoving nature of a mountain, suddenly become as dependent as a small child? How can such firmly planted roots be so easily torn from the ground, making one feel lost and tossed in the wind? Will there ever be another joyous and enthusiastic welcome to the season of renewal and rebirth? How can that be when David barely remembers how to unlock his phone or differentiate between the bathroom and a closet? He has few memories and many fears, no dreams but frequent nightmares, scant moments of awareness and too many hours of sleep. He sees his reflection in the window and stares, unrecognizing. And my sister gently cares for him, tends to his needs, shaves him, trims his hair, cleans up his accidents, calms his fears, loves him. He is still the man she married, yet he isn’t. And in his silent fleeting moments of lucidity, he knows that and he cries. Theirs is a love for the ages, a love that will live on after them. How has this happened? How can such an awful thing happen to the two most beautiful people I have ever known? As the leaves fall from the trees in Autumn, so do my tears.

you are gone but still with me
like a stalwart oak
now trembling, bereft of leaves

NAR©2024

Reflection

This is “Silent Lucidity” by Queensryche

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for Nancy (The Sicilian Storyteller), The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

34 thoughts on “In Prescious Moments Of Lucidity: A Haibun”

  6. Aw Nanc. You sing the song of their love, and yours as you witness. This is a beautiful piece. Has your sister heard you read it to her? For a person who gave everything all her life, getting outside help is a pretty big change of identity. She no longer has that consistent supporting pillar/soulmate that made an unbeatable pairing. 💔

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    1. Thank you for your beautiful and heartfelt words, Liz. I wrote this last night so my sister has not yet seen or heard it. I’ll give her the option of hearing it from me or reading it herself. You have given me a new perspective regarding accepting help; it is a big change for my sister and obviously not easy to do. Mom was the same way and ended up doing everything herself. David was exactly as you describe … her pillar and soulmate, her rock, her best friend. Now she has to be his rock. She’s so lonely; she cries to me or in private but never lets David see her breakdown. It’s painfully sad. 💔

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    1. So many of us have, Björn. At this point in our lives, I truly don’t know which is worse …. the ravages of the mind or the body. In my brother-in-law’s case, it is both. I see the tiredness in his eyes; he rarely smiles. He never said a mean-spirited word about anyone; now my sister is the recipient of his anger and frustration. Such a sad situation. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

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  11. This is beautiful Nancy so well written and written with love. Your sisters situation is very similar to my sister’s. Married over 60yrs now he no longer knows any of us or his children or grandchildren….she had to concede in the end and he is now in a home. It’s very very sad . Your words touch the heart.

    I don’t know why this mean and nasty illness attacks it robs the person and leaves a husk. I hope you don’t mind me sharing this with you.

    He’s Out There ln The Garden.

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    1. There are no answers, Willow …. no good ones, anyway. It’s heartbreaking and all we can do is watch and say “There but for the grace of God”.

      My sister wants no help; she says it’s a joyful duty to care for David. She says she will never put him in a home. I give her a lot of credit but I also see her getting burned out quickly. There’s no reasoning with her; in that regard she is just like my mother and that worries me.

      Thank you for sharing your beautiful verse about your brother-in-law. Such a heartache. 🩶

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        1. As do I, Willow. Eventually it will become too much for her although she refuses to believe that now. She has adult children and grown grandchildren; the only help she accepts from them is the occasional food delivery. I admire her greatly but there is a fine line between giving of oneself freely out of love and becoming a martyr doing her duty. We almost had “She did her duty” inscribed on my mother’s headstone; it would have been a fitting sendoff. 🩶

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  12. Oh this is heartbreaking. My heart goes out to you and your family. Sadly, we may never know why we go through all the trails and tribulations that we go through. It’s not fair but we have to find hidden reservoirs of strength to face it all. I’m sorry that this is a true story. I hope that all of you get the strength to face this difficult time. You’ve captured the emotions so beautifully in your haibun. A oak, once a simple of strength that stands trembling in the winds of change.

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    1. Yes, of course we can logically explain away horrible things like this but our hearts will still be just as broken. The situation they are in is beyond awful and it’s a vicious cycle with no end in sight. Something’s gotta give soon or my sister will collapse under the pressure.

      Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Shweta.

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