Gifts

The transplant is done,

A gift of life given and received.

She has gone and come back,

From the shadow of death,

Her bones ache, her flesh sloughs off,

She i black and blue and swollen,                      There is fluid in her lungs and around her heart,

The nausea comes and goes,

And, oh, she is so beautiful to me.

She clutches my gloved hand

And speaks of her fears

Tears streak her cheeks and she declares,

I don't want to and will not die. 

She told methat I  was a comfort to her

The most comforting person in her life.

I was touched to the core of my soul by those words.

Those words, her gift to me.

We wait every day for news that her white counts,

Have taken hold, that the transplant worked.

Her very existence means so much to me,

I give thanks for the miracle at work in her.