Footsteps that I may never hear....

It's been months since you flew away to your new home,
I could see your face looking back through the rear window of the car
until you faded around the corner
Your eyes were like the 5 year old I left behind many years ago..

I remember the time I held you close, my son
your frail little body trembling with delirium,
You clung to me like a vine on a tree trunk...
I remember the time when you held your hand out to me
at times when you needed support....
I remember the time your firm hands wrapped around me
when your father passed away, assuring me comfort...
I remember how you become strong when it mattered most...

Time has caught up with me, with a body ravaged by cancer
As I lay waiting on this hospital bed, for my end to come....
I wish you could be here next to me so that I can reach out
and hold your hand, my son....
I need you more than ever in my life, when my days are numbered
the cold hands of death are a breath away from whisking me
to the deep and dark valley of silence....
I wish I could see you my son, just for one brief moment
To look into your eyes and to utter one last time that I loved you most...

The October sun gently beating down the window panes
The wind blowing gently on the drapes
Smell of medicines hanging in the thick air of the corridor
The faint groaning of aching bodies from the other rooms
Piercing the dense silence like a sharp dagger….
I been looking out for you, my son, I been listening to each footstep
echoing in the corridor....
As I feel the cold hands of death inching up my legs,
I realise I am waiting for the footsteps that I may never hear....


Footnote : I wrote this piece about my mother, who passed away a decade ago, while waiting in agony to see her first born for one last time...and the first born never made it to that poor woman...she passed away waiting for her son's footsteps!!!! This might have been her thoughts!!