Ann Keiffer

A Myriad of Futures

Though you tell me
on the phone that you
don’t think it’s really
an emergency,
I hurry to the ER
and find you in your bay
behind a sliding curtain.
It’s a shock to see you
in a gray cotton gown,
lying in a hospital bed,
your eyes closed,
electrodes taped to your chest,
monitors spasming with
numbers and beeps,
tubes and ports in place,
a man accustomed to health
now pale as skim milk.

A myriad of futures
streak by me in a moment.
We won’t get to choose
what is coming.
Your feet tent
the white flannel blanket
draped over you.
I reach out and give
your toes a little squeeze
to tell you I’m there.
Your eyes open….
we lock on, deep.
And I know everything
is going to be all right.
Not that the future
will necessarily be
as we wish.
Not that it may not be
difficult or
worst-case fatal.
But I know,
whatever it is,
we will live, fully,
what comes.
And everything
will be all right.
Even if it is not.

Ann Keiffer
April, 2016

Update: Blood pressure, prostate, bladder and
kidneys went down like dominoes. But situation
is correcting, husband Larry doing well. (Also
he is my editor and approved this message!)

Image Credit: Pinterest “Growing Old Gracefully”


About Ann

I am interested in the strange beauty of brokenness, in transforming possibility in difficult times, in how we heal even when we can’t get better, in the alchemy of surrender, in the interplay of light and shadow, in the bounty of everyday wonders, in the gift of laughter…and writing about it, all and everything.

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