Mary

2 Corinthians 5:17
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

Last night I watched my foster sister take her last breath of air and leave this world.

Three days ago Mary was taken to the ER after having 16 seizures. The doctors discovered that a fierce infection had entered her bloodstream, making recovery unlikely. Yesterday I received the call that any loved ones should make their way to the hospital immediately: Mary was expected to live through only a few more hours.

On the hour long drive into the hospital I thanked God for the chance to say goodbye to Mary. To tell her that I love her and I’m sorry for the things I did wrong. To hold her hand and walk with her to the end of this life. Losing a loved one is always tragic and hard, yet for Mary, leaving this life and entering the next holds something extra-precious. You see, Mary was a beautiful girl trapped in a broken body and a broken mind. She lived out her 29 years mentally and physically handicapped. She never got to experience many things we take for granted: walking, running, dancing, talking, being heard, being understood, understanding, independence.

Mary died slowly. For hours she would take a breath only every minute, and then every two minutes. Still, it seemed so peaceful. The longer time passed the less she struggled. There was a peace in the room in the final hours. When she opened her eyes there was no fear. I remember looking into them and thinking that she had never looked at me with such intention, like she was more present than ever, like she was accepting our comfort, being washed in love.

My favorite memory of Mary is her sitting in her wheelchair in the summer shade at moms house. How many times I watched her, long black hair glossed with sun, quiet face lifted toward the sky. If I ever had wondered if Mary spoke with God, I knew in those moments that she did. She knew His love. Of that I am certain.

Today when I woke I felt sadness and loneliness wash over me. I wondered about Mary. I tried to see her in my mind. I wish there was a window with which to peek through and watch. In the midst of this heartache and guilt and sadness, through the sorrow and longing there is joy. Yesterday Mary was an orphan. She was a stranger to most of humanity. She was misunderstood. She was invisible to most, even myself at times. She was trapped and helpless and bound. Today Mary has legs to stand on. She has met the one person who has always loved her perfectly and as she was. She has been embraced by the God who fashioned and formed her. She can speak, she can sing, she can dance, she can bend and unbend, she can think clearly, she can be Mary unrestrained. She is more free and whole than I can ever imagine.

Oh, Mary. We love you. We miss you. We can't wait to meet the new you.

In 2006 - This was my very first published poem:
For Mary

you are beautiful somewhere
and you know it's close
on the tip and trapped
like a word
that won't push
from the tongue
drawn nigh and left to fill
the beacon mouth with silent
arcane thoughts
which you roll, like poppy seeds
in the loll of your mind
set them to germinate
in numinous folds the soul
of someone lovely
who is green
who is growing a garden