They have been married for 52 years.
Now she is in rehab
on a feeding tube,
a phantom of her former self,
so frail.
And he is hail
for her.
He says to her:
“Let’s not talk about the past.
Let’s not talk about the future.
Let’s just sit here and hold hands.”
And so they sat for three hours
until the darkness fell.
Patrick Battuello
Explorations in Authenticity by Michael Mark
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LYCKSALIGHET
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ZQ
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Blind Sightseers!
Truly touching.
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March 25, 2013 at 7:56 PM
Thank you.
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March 25, 2013 at 8:06 PM
beautiful
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March 25, 2013 at 8:06 PM
Thank you, Bert.
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March 25, 2013 at 8:07 PM
Beyond love!
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March 25, 2013 at 9:37 PM
Hi Arjun, How are you doing? Yes, sometimes relationships do go into something spiritual/mystical. I have only experienced it really a couple of times. The couple in the poem are my Italian aunt and uncle and the story is true. Had to write it down.
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March 25, 2013 at 9:52 PM
I’m doing great. Thank you for asking.
Absolutely. Such inspiring stories are meant to be shared.
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March 25, 2013 at 9:54 PM
Poetically and musically spoken with such heart. Moves me to tears.
Yisraela
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March 25, 2013 at 11:43 PM
Thank you, Yisraela. You are a very empathetic person.
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March 26, 2013 at 9:25 AM
Love at its finest, in my opinion. Not the romanticized, sexualized “love” our culture is obsessed with. This is how I’d like to go to my exit. Thanks for writing this beautiful piece. May we all be so fortunate to experience this.
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March 26, 2013 at 12:34 PM
I agree with you 100%. Yes, we should all be so fortunate. Thanks so much for commenting and glad you liked the post.
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March 26, 2013 at 3:10 PM
I knew a couple in their eighties, at the time, I used to buy organic vegetables from them; his wife had a stroke and he showed me a photo of her in the hospital, then he said,”Can you believe it?”, I was about to reply, “No, it’s hard to believe, the stroke has taken such a heavy toll on her”, when he said: “I just can’t get over it, she’s as beautiful as the day I met her.”
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March 26, 2013 at 9:42 PM
That’s an amazing story. Great story. Love is grand and in the end especially, it can be spiritual, as in a taste of the infinite. My story is of my Italian aunt and uncle. Thanks for writing, Genie!
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March 26, 2013 at 9:51 PM