I was downstairs,
when I heard a heavy thump,
from upstairs.
A dull silence filled the space in between.
I called your name,
silence spoke hauntingly.
Walking upstairs,
I was afraid that you would jump out from behind a door,
and scare me.
Whispering cautiously, "John don’t… "
Through the doorway I saw you,
laying on the floor,
with a look that screamed agony.
Louder than the pounding of my heart,
the double edge sword pierced,
I had to go find help,
but in going you might die alone.
Time stood still.
Eternity raced forward,
my feet carried me,
my heart stayed by your side.
Later I would remember feeling your hand letting go of mine,
putting my head to your chest hoping to hear that familiar song,
receiving a silent answer.
Finding prayers that I knew by heart,
not coming to my lips.
On my face,
feeling tears from heaven,
knowing that God cried,
with me,
gave comfort as,
I witnessed your death.
Nothing in my life,
taught me more,
then on this day many years ago.
John was 24 when he died of a massive asthmatic attack.
Photo: Stone stairway in Chateau de Chenonceau.
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