Terminal Illness

By Hope Weidmann

[written for spoken word]

I remember
her April hospitalization.
Learning
there is no way to defend.
My fragile little sister.
I want to go before her.
When they gave her that yellow bracelet,
deemed her a fall risk.
Loving her
risks the hardest fall of all.
Her falling.
The day I will lose her.
Her life.
That no matter how
meaningful
will only remain as memories.
I will try to tuck them away.
Videos and photographs.
I will try not to lose.
I will cling to it all.
To her.
I will not let go now,
but there is no way around
the gravity of this illness
and the way it inevitably
brings her down
to rock bottom.
It will take her
no matter how tightly
I hold on.

Poetry