Wife Death Poem

Wife Dies Of M.S.

My wife Gillian was diagnosed with M.S. at the age of twenty five, twelve months after the birth of our daughter Amy. We lived with it together until October 2007, when she put herself into hospice, after her illness became totally debilitating.
She passed away on October 3, 2009.
She is missed by myself, Amy and Rhys (our children).

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Published: July 2011

As I stand gazing out my window, I recall
your Father telling me you won't be with us long.
The trees were beautiful, their leaves the many colours of fall, some lay already on the ground, I remember our song.

I watch some twitching, half turning, over and around,
like reluctant dancers, unwilling, unready, eerily silent,
through the glass there is no sound.

First one, then another are swept up and along,
as though trying to resist the will of the wind, as they had for so long.
Safely attached to their Mother tree,
waving and rustling almost mockingly.

Like the leaves, you lost your tenuous hold,
now your broken body's free!
"The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,"
I know what was to be our story will be left untold.

Unlike the once budding, now fallen leaves, never to unfold,
never to see the colours of autumn, its shades of ochre,
red, orange, yellow, amber and gold.
Partway through, our story ends; I'll never stop remembering
all the times we shared: we were best friends.

So many good and happy things,
all our dreams, our hopes, our fears.
In my head, Justin Hayward still sings
of those fallen leaves, lying undisturbed.
Bye, my love of twenty-two years.



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