TOOTHPICKS

“Jake” suffered from pancreatic cancer. He was diagnosed only two months ago. He went downhill quickly, especially so in the past few weeks. He died peacefully with his wife, “Grace” by his side. Grace and Jake were always teasing each other. They both would laugh so easily at themselves. It was always so uplifting visiting their home as they both would quickly put their guests at ease with their kindness and humor.

Jake died four days ago and Grace asked if I could visit as she needed the support. I was worried about how she would do after Jake died as the two of them were soul mates. They did everything together. They acted like newlyweds with each other which was wonderful.

After I walked in today, Grace immediately started telling me stories about Jake and their life together. They had so many fun times just being together. Her stories weren’t about exotic trips or adventures, but everyday life around their home and neighborhood. She would light up just reminiscing about it all.

Grace then shared the story about finding the toothpick. She says that it gives her peace knowing that Jake made it to the other side and is doing okay. She has strong Christian beliefs where Jake did not. Grace worried a bit about Jake being a non-believer, but now is convinced that he is doing quite well and is waiting for her when her time comes.

She was receptive to meeting with a bereavement counselor next week for support. Because of this and the toothpick, I am pretty sure Grace will be able to process her grief and be able to move on in time. Thoughts of Jake will sadden her, but I believe, will also leave her with a smile.


TOOTHPICKS
　

He always had a handful of toothpicks.
He would chew on them leaving a small kink.
His supply would run out quickly
as he would drop them all over the house.

It became their private joke.
He leaving toothpicks lying all around.
Losing them and asking her to bring him a few.
She would always respond, “How many more?”

She would pick them up when he dropped them.
The floor, the end table, in the back room.
She would laugh and reprimand him for being so messy,
knowing she will always continue to find more.

He has been gone for only a few days.
She misses not having him around.
He was her soul mate; the love of her life.
She so wants to know if he is doing okay.

They picked up the hospital bed leaving a void.
The living room looks empty without him there.
She moved back the chairs, the end tables, the lamps.
She vacuumed the carpet, all spic and span.

She came back later and walked into the room.
Then noticed something on the living room rug.
A toothpick with his distinctive kink.
He was letting her know that he was okay.

She has peace believing he is in a better place.
No more pain; no more suffering.
All validated by a familiar sign.
A small, kinked, powerful
          toothpick.