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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, March 17, 2011

For Bernadette

Image found here.
The Luck O' the Irish passed you by
Out of 3 girls and 1 boy
Only you
Inherited your father's affliction
But like your patron saint
You still saw possibilities
Where others saw obstacles
And believed in miracles
While taking what science and medicine had to offer
And when your disease took your hearing
You still listened
When you could no longer walk
Your wheelchair became your legs
At the end it took everything
Except your grace
And it was we who had the luck
Of knowing you.

This poem was written for my sister-in-law Bernadette, who died last May of neurofibromatosis 2.

submitted for Theme Thursday

7 comments:

Christine said...

Luck is all in how you look at it. Wonderful tribute to a life lived well.

mouse (aka kimy) said...

how exciting to run across another mouse. fun blog - just discovered you on tt!

happy and lucky st. patty's day!!!

Steve Isaak said...

Well-written, able work.

Fireblossom said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. :-(

Cynthia M said...

what an amazing tribute...

Meryl said...

Oh how beautiful and what a tribute. We can all learn strength and grace from this. Thank you.

Meryl
http://departingthetext.blogspot.com

Lucy Westenra said...

I loved your carefully worded tribute.