Holly Schwartztol Poet Narrative

Left

Left

© By Holly W. Schwartztol

Early on that morning
I wracked my brain
Trying to solve
A computer glitch

As I left the wretched machine
I rose and felt suddenly dizzy
And as the room spun

I chided myself
Saying this isn’t worth
Your having a stroke

I lay down on the bed
Listened to a disc
That promised 
Relaxation and rest

My head stopped throbbing
And the phone rang
The caller ID said
Mother

What was she doing at 
Home in mid-morning?
Only the voice on 
The other end
Wasn’t hers

But the 
Maid I’d never met
Telling me of mother’s 
Neck pain and strange speech

And then I knew
That my pain had 
Really belonged to her

That my dizziness
Reflected hers and that
It was she who was
In fact having a stroke

Frantic calls ensued
Between Miami and New York
A neurologist
Saying that the stroke 

Had been massive 
That the prognosis was grim
Words of paralysis
And irretrievable
Brain damage

I faxed the living will
Which is really the
Will of the living isn’t it?

We sat by her bedside
For four endless days
And then her breath
Was no more and she was gone.

And at 62 I was 
Suddenly an orphan
Both parents gone
The older brother
Having gone 40 years ago

How do I live in
This world
On this planet
As the lonely satellite

The last member
Of my nuclear family
Here to sift through
The pictures

And the letters
And all the memorabilia that 
Make up a life

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James Fraser August 23, 2009 at 10:53 AM Sad poem Holly, but written with emotion so strong, thank you for sharing>>James

Carol Sunshine Brown August 23, 2009 at 9:21 AM Excellent Sunday morning poetry reading Holly. Thank you for sharing your poetry. Love, Carol

Sara Kendrick August 23, 2009 at 6:40 AM I feel your pain. I was adopted at 19 months old after my mother died. There was four older brothers in that family. I was adopted by an older couple who had one daughter who died in infancy and two living sons. Today at age 64 there is no one left in either family. I visit graves. Nicely written piece. Sara