The leaves are turning once more, as they will, again and again. Oops there goes another one in a hurley burley dance toward the ground. When I was young, I would try and catch them, these early fatalities of Autumn. Now I watch them and wonder when will I face that last cold whish of cold winter wind and feel my own fingers relent as I am swept toward the earth?
There is my partner beside me, being whipped heartlessly against the limb he is attached to. He looks at me and catches my gaze as I read the desperation in his eyes.
We have hung here together for so long, an entire lifetime. We knew our time to leave would come; it just arrived too fast. I stretch my body across the space between us and somehow hope it will be enough to keep us for another year. I know it is not enough, but I have to try because I am the care giver.
Why did it take me so long to initiate this role? Was I blind to my other comrades, my other care giver friends who struggle with their partners to preserve a precious spark of life. I salute and pray for them each day.