For Harry, 1921 - 2005

The Scent of You

We couldn’t get the guard rail down.

I climbed over and you shifted to make room for me.

Our sons looked on and showed no surprise.

Your brother’s eyes widened, but I don’t know.

Yesterday he thought you were your father.

I wanted to turn my back to where we were headed.

I wanted the comfort of you spooned around my back,

arms wrapping, coaxing me to sleep,

so that I could wake and recall a dream.

But, more, I needed to quiet you and sink into your scent.

“I will never lose this,” I thought.

“I will breathe so deeply that your scent will become part of me.”

I closed my eyes to the purple gathering on your limbs.

Then the nurse smiled down at us. They were ready.

A shot for the ride, hugs and goodby.

I rode in the front, but your scent was with me.

“I will never lose this,” I thought.

The driver turned and looked at me sharply.

I wondered if I had spoken the words.

The nurse took you to the room. I made arrangements.

Before I was done, the nurse returned to confirm the purple.

“We are talking hours not days.” I nodded.

When I came in to your room, you were curled on your side,

and when I tried to get in next to you, you made no space.

Peter came with Billy, but when he jumped up, you pushed away

and he jumped down to sniff out the room.

The scent was gone, of course; I leaned in and confirmed Billy.

Quietly and almost unnoticed, you slipped from us by morning.

I sat by your bed and your breaths were part of the room.

I stepped out to the hall to find my pills,

and swallowed them as I returned.
The room was changed. The breaths were gone.

I felt your chest with my shaking hands,

but my own shaking was all that I felt.

At home, I went straight to the laundry chute.

The sheets were still there and I grabbed them quickly,

tied them in a trash bag,

and hid them behind a box of old paint cans.

They will be there if I need them.

For now I still have the scent of you.

In the middle of the night, I turn and bury my nose in new sheets.

If I do it just so, I have the scent and drift off again,

as if spoon-soothed and recalling but a dream.

April 13, 2007