the loving-6

family is about the faith, the commitment and the healing. with this sickness poisoning her, family, is about the waiting. we will clean, we will have a watchful eye. the great regression in life. the returning to the innocence of a babe stumbling about and breaking things. hannah has been here a full day and she is already exhausted. i have no chance.

i watch debra while she combs her hair. there is sunlight here, it plays and slides about her silver locks causing them to sparkle, shimmer and shine. i watch her hands slow and tender to grasp strands of hair hold them away from her scalp and as she runs the brush through she allows them to drop fine into place. i watch as she hums and brushes smiling to the day her blouse pressed white and clean her slacks fine tight and black no shoes toe nails red drumming against the carpet. there is joy here. then it stops, like a record that skips or a faulty satellite signal her hand drops to the vanity as she studies her face then her hand then her arms sucking her teeth wondering where these band aids have come from.

i watch and stretch from the bed. i hear stirring as addison comes bowling ball down the hallway calling out 'good morning' on her way to the deck where she will have her breakfast and write her study of the morning birds.

it is the effect of youth that causes debra to say, 'oh, that wonderful child,' moving away form her mirror and making her way to the kitchen, 'you rest and i'll get the coffee ready.'

'oh no don't worry i am up, i am up let me do it, you watch the birds,' i wait a beat to see if she says it when she doesn't i add, 'hannah is here.'

the watcher he holds his breath, he waits for hope to come tumbling from her lips. debra pauses at the doorway, 'well what a great day,' she sings and moves down the hall.

we will lie, we will misconstrue the facts and we will consider this a success that she knew, the she smiled, that she remembered.

they say that this disease is an eraser. they say that it starts at the end and works it's way to the beginning. they don't know at what rate it is erasing, at what speed this black snake is swallowing her memories, all they say is that it is usually complete before the end.

life is always hurtling towards the end. as i stretch. as i move through my morning routine and toilet i consider the years we have had. i sit and break down the years to months the months to weeks and so forth until i get to this 15894144000.

the hourglass has turned. as the shower goes on in hannah's room, as debra and addison laugh

i reflect on what was and what's to come, while in some dark regions of my mind the clock it starts...

15894144000...15894143999...