TELLING ME

My dear cousin, Jack, died almost three months ago after a short illness. Jack and I grew up together and were so close. We traveled the world together on amazing vacations, but the best thing about my cousin is how much he made me laugh. Jack and I often would start laughing so hard together. Folks with us would then say, "There they go again."  It was wonderful.

Jack had been living in a mobile home park until he had to move out as could no longer live alone. I was there with other family members packing up things he would need with his move. When it was time for all of us go leave, it took two of my cousins twenty minutes to help Jack get down the front steps. That image leaves such a sad spot in my heart.

Four days ago I was delivering some supplies to a hospice family. I was helping out the team as I had time to drive to the patient's home. Halfway there, I suddenly realized that it was Jack's mobile home park. I drove in past his mobile home and saw a strange car in the driveway. The new owners had moved in. It brought up such sadness to me.

Today, four days later, I did a hospice admission in a retirement community where Jack lived prior to moving into his mobile home. This was a large complex with six buildings. The patient's apartment was only four doors down from Jack's apartment. While still in the parking lot, I looked up to the sky and said to Jack, "What are you doing to me?" Laughing while I said it.

This coincidence is letting me know that Jack is, and always will be, around. I know he is laughing in heaven. I promise you Jack that your memories will always make me laugh and chuckle at all of those funny times we had together. But, on the other hand, I do and will always miss you. It is such an beautiful feeling knowing that Jack is still around.


TELLING ME　

Four days ago I made a visit
to a patient's mobile home park.
Halfway there, I suddenly realized
the last time I was there.

It was the day you moved out.
No longer able to live alone;
needing twenty-four hour help.
Leaving the home you loved.

Sadness hit me quietly;
telling me how much I so miss you.
Remembrance of that fateful day
like it all just happened yesterday.

Today I did a hospice admission.
The patient lived where you lived before.
Four doors down from your apartment.
Bringing up memories of fun times past.

What is it all about?
Bringing me to places where you have lived.
Recalling the fun times while visiting you;
telling me about our extraordinary past.

Coincidences are signs from above;
but this time I know it is you
telling me that your spirit is nearby;
telling me that you are still loving me,
          and will always be,
                   forevermore around.