The Widow

The Rainy Funeral from the movie “Sucker Punch” 2011, director Zach Snyder


Years of decline

Months of care-giving

Weeks of hospice nurses coming and going

Days of waiting, listening to breathing

And when at last he leaves, she is shocked

Where is his body, how is it being kept, what are they doing to it, when can I see it?

She is wasted and white, won’t eat, subsists on the proteins in her tears

She venerates him, grasps at photos, keepsakes, correspondence, anything he’s written, anything that’s been written about him

She reaches out arms like a miser for gold, scoops mountains of memorabilia back to her breast, stacks it like bricks between the mortar of condolences, a despairing attempt at building him back alive again

She seethes and snaps, wounded and angry, clings and kisses, guilt-ridden and grateful

Loved ones mince their words into euphemisms and slither between suggestion and coercion

While high on a hill, between Life and Death, she stands cloudy and windblown, teetering between both doors, a feeble knuckle raised to knock, as her family waits below

Is love worth the risk of loss to Death?

Ask her at the alter and she would say “Of course,” because she couldn’t possibly know

Ask her as the widow poised between the doors, and her answer would be “Yes,” whichever door she chose


Click here for more on prompt #343 – Risk from other Sunday Scribblings participants.


6 Responses to “The Widow”

  1. October 28, 2012 at 4:36 pm

    A profound and beautiful elegy on death.

  2. October 29, 2012 at 2:17 am

    To regret not doing something is not as important as being thankful for what you did do together, the laughs, the love, the joys and achievements, they cannot be taken away.

  3. October 29, 2012 at 12:47 pm

    To live on the protein of tears is perhaps an answer in itself..that we can sustain ourselves through misery and despair through what is inside of us..a powerful write ms z..I am glad her answer is yes..Jae x

    • 6 zanzinece
      October 29, 2012 at 5:46 pm

      It’s quite possible, dearest Jae. And when we write with our blood, as Nietzsche said, we find that blood is spirit : )

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