Don't ask me for an update. If you really cared, you would just show up. I know that you have your own life. Wrapped up in your own world.
So far away. Four whole hours.
But seriously.
It is really hard for me to be understanding. Stay open-minded and positive. Your occasional message checking in. What are you waiting for.
A funeral.
Because it will happen one day. And then what. What will you feel then. Will you regret. All those times you did not bother to come. Those precious moments that you missed.
You can still catch that brief smile of recognition. It's not too late. But the clock is ticking. Decline is happening. And you are not here.
What are you waiting for.
Waiting for that phone call.
The phone call that will change all of our lives. Alter reality as we know it. And then you will show up. And be sad.
Mourning.
For this tremendous loss you feel. But never actually took advantage of the time that you did have. And did not bother to come and make a difference. You left it up to others.
Us.
Always our responsibility. Burden. Pain. Privilege. To care for. And hold. To feed. And cheer up. A lifetime revolved around. Affected.
In the end. We will have very little regret. Will feel pride and comfort. That we did all we could.
Almost.
That we were there.
And you will come and it will be too late. You will drop everything and finally show up. And it will not matter anymore. Because you missed out. Your loss.
And while it will be a loss for us. We will be consoled that our faces were recognized. Hands squeezed. Occasional name uttered.
We were always there.
