Epilogue

I remember being loved very much Of loving you too in the day, in the night and . . . And I remember waking in the early morning Before the sun rose Before the moon fell I remember watching the sighing of moonlight across your skin How it rained just for us, for you in March And how the skies shaded the sun on that one-day in October so slightly I remember our children And Mary Rhane I remember our first child and the way you smiled in those first moments I remember In the sighing of my life I remember you Watching over me Loving me Always loving me And . . . I remember dying Growing old together with laughter and tears Of looking back on our life together Of being eighty-four summers old and new Of celebrating your eighty-third autumn and spring With our children And our grandchildren with their squealing laughter and “Nana, Nana!” I remember my last breath And how my eyes fell upon you to the last I remember dying My story . . . It was supposed to end there