Months To Years Winter 2019 Months To Years Winter 2019 - Page 54

March, gray beads of rain splattering the cheerful We few, in the small town above the river, had our windows, I found Sue in a wheelchair, back at Big separate memories of Sue. Mine were about blue Prairie. I asked how the food was, and she said vodka, painting Christmas ornaments with great pretty good. And then she said she almost died care, paddling in the pool, joking about vibrators. the night she was taken to the University of Dave still cannot let go of her stuff, the wood- Iowa Hospital, and that when she came back she burning tools, the afghan, her clothes. At The Table blubbered to Dave to take her home for one night. they put a straw into a paper cup, put an index Blubbered was the word she used and then she card on the straw: In Memory of Sue. Nothing else laughed. For one moment, Sue was there again. happened, besides the brief obit in the newspaper: I kissed her goodbye as they wheeled her off to beloved wife of David. lunch. It was the last time. We hold onto such small memories, smoothed down The call came from a fellow expatriate while I was into round pebbles, the kind people walk on without on vacation. Sue died yesterday. There was no noticing, the kind that barely cause a ripple in the use asking what she died from. Stomach? Liver? stream. Brain? Maybe she just lost the will to live. When I got home I called Dave, asking about a memorial service, since she had been cremated. Dave said no, that Sue would not have wanted that. Carol L. Gloor has been writing, mostly poetry, for more years than she cares to remember. Her poetry has been published in many hard copy and online journals, most recently in Postcard Poems and Prose and DuPage Valley Review. Her full-length poetry collection, Falling Back, was published in April 2018, by WordTech, LLC. She has no discipline, and writes only when she feels like it. 54