Thinking Positive Amid Spring’s Misery: A Poem

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.The following poem was published in this year’s spring issue of The Avocet: A Journal of Nature Poetry. I wrote it several years ago while I was caring for my late husband, who was partially paralyzed by two strokes. You can read our story in My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds. Click on the Play button below the poem to hear me read it. Enjoy, and stay positive now that spring has finally arrived.

 

Positive Thinking Amid Spring Misery

 

A cold wind blows.
Clouds hover, obscure sunlight.
“We can’t sit outside today,”
I tell my husband.
Confined to a wheelchair,
able to do little for himself,
he longs for the comfort of fresh air.

After an endless wait, the rain streams,
waters thirsty grass,
washes streets and sidewalks clean,
drums on roof tops,
fills the air with its fresh scent.

Tomorrow, the sun will come out of hiding.
Dark clouds and wind will disappear.
Hope will spring forth and revive.

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

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Things I’ll Never Tell You

Thanks to Ascerblog for inspiring me to post the poem below. It appears in How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver. Please click below to hear me read it.

***

Things I’ll Never Tell You

 

 

 

I’ll never  tell
you
you’re stupid

when you forget something or don’t understand.

I’ll never tell you you’re lazy

when you sit at the kitchen table in your
wheelchair

while I fix dinner, clean up.

I’ll never tell you you’re a baby

when I must do most things for you.

I’ll never tell you I don’t understand

why you can’t walk and do more for yourself

when I know the reason.

I’ll never tell you I hate you

or that I was a fool to marry you.

You can’t help being the way you are.

I’ll always love you–although the vow was
never spoken,

I’ll be with you for better or worse.

 

***

 

Author Abbie
Johnson Taylor

We Shall Overcome

How to Build a Better
Mousetrap:
Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

My Ideal
Partner: How I
Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite
Debilitating Odds

Click
to hear an audio trailer.

Like
me on Facebook.

 

***

 

The Man on the Flying Trapeze

Abbie-1

Have you ever been to a circus, watched an aerialist, and wondered how they did it or thought, oh boy, I’m glad I’m not doing that. Well, believe it or not, my late husband Bill, after suffering two strokes that paralyzed his left side, flew through the air three days a week during the six years I cared for him at home. The following excerpt and poem from my new memoir explains how.

***

At first, Bill didn’t like the lift, because it suspended him in mid–air while he was transferred from the bed to the commode and vice versa. I almost laughed when I saw the process for the first time, because it reminded me of the song about the man on the flying trapeze. Because Bill had no vision, I could imagine how insecure he felt during the process. We kept reassuring him that he was securely fastened into the sling and wouldn’t fall, but after his first shower, he said, “I’m not using that damn lift again.”

I was flabbergasted. It had taken one month to get the lift, and another for the carpet in the bedroom to be replaced so it could be used. For two months, Bill traipsed back and forth to Eventide for his showers. I had to dress him every day, not just on the days when his showers at home weren’t scheduled. My own back was starting to bother me. I was ready for a break. “Please, honey, just try it for another week,” I said. “It takes some getting used to.”

“It’s not a problem,” said Bonnie, our case worker. “Jean said you can keep getting your showers at Eventide if you don’t want to use the lift.”

I wasn’t about to settle for that. Because Bill joked about girls seeing him naked, I got an idea. “Okay, honey, just imagine you’re naked on a flying trapeze in a big circus tent, and fifty women are in that tent who paid $50 each to see you naked on that flying trapeze, and you’re going to get all that money.”

It sounded outrageous, but it worked. After another week, he seemed happy as a clam, being propelled across the room, hanging in mid air.

UNDER THE BIG TOP

 

Like the daring young man on the flying trapeze,

he glides through the air, smiles down on me.

I wink, say, “Bravo!”

 

We’re not in a circus but in our bedroom.

His left arm and leg useless,

a mechanical lift raises him off the bed,

propels him across the room,

lowers him to the commode, ready for the shower.

***

Author Abbie Johnson Taylor

We Shall Overcome

How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

Click to hear an audio trailer.

Like me on Facebook.