I’m little and round

And yet to be found.

Am I under the bed?

Or lost in your head?

If I’m gone you’ll be sad

Perhaps a bit mad.

It ends with birth.

Frank’s decline was birthed quickly, pushing into the world like a screaming bear, clawing at the walls around it, tearing it to shreds like loose bark on a tree.

“I don’t want to be born this way.” He tried to shout, but his mouth was gluing shut, from the fluid being born.

Then, Frank began to look the birth in the eye, accepting the road behind him.

“I’m going to be okay. Where I’m going, I’ll be okay.”

Frank’s ascent was slow.

Frank woke up. Even though he hadn’t ever been asleep.

It starts with death.

I feel so heavy this morning.

Not to be measured in pounds.

But heavy in my heart.

The visit with the man who is dying was beautiful, but so difficult to bring home. I don't know what to do with everything I brought home with me also- the gratitude, fear, darkness and most overwhelmingly- the feeling of very suddenly being grown up.

He saw me. He has always seen me. That's part of what I love about him, and what I will miss.

Can't stop now. Am fully on board this train, and I don't know where it is taking me. But I'm glad I'm here, and am alright enough, to be along for the journey.