Beyond his physical disability
in an emergency
when I asked him
to conquer my motherÂ’s
high twisty stairway
that he never climbs, to her room,
a feat not viable for him,
he accomplished it with success
to help me in a crisis.

Beyond all the time and effort
heÂ’s daily devoting to his own
ailing mother,
he's always added his efforts
to any request or need
to help mine.

Right now weÂ’re wrapped up
in the roles of the less broken
helping the more broken — *
and he, whoÂ’s coped for over two decades
with strokeÂ’s limitations,
guides, gives, goes, for these others
as well as my stroke-ridden brother.
As he did for my father years ago.

Recently we renewed our vows in one sense,
by replacing the wedding bands weÂ’d slipped
on each othersÂ’ hands in our early twenties
with new ones for each other.
We somehow both lost the originals,
weÂ’re a strange pair in that,
but the important point,
I tell him, is we havenÂ’t lost each other.

Now as we wear the shiny symbols
we find ourselves leaning on each other
more than ever
knowing we have weathered
the greatest trials, joys and even foolish errors,
together, since that day of promises,
and experienced the growth, forgiveness
faith and survival
all integral to our
unbroken circle
so that like our long-widowed mothers,
when one of us is left
and one gone on,
we will forever look
to our missing mate
beyond place and time.

04/08/2007

Author's Note: draft. * the less broken must help the more broken is a line paraphrased from a movie I once saw about a woman who had a baby with challenges and disability. I'm still trying to find that precise source. But it echoes The Bible's Romans 15:1 "We then that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak ... "

Posted on 04/08/2007
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