Some readers may find this one just a bit sentimental.
We Remember Maria
by Ken Sanes
We remember Maria.
But it isn’t enough.
We remember how she
dressed up her dolls
in outfits like her own.
We remember how she
laughed in her room with friends
at the jokes they shared,
and how they talked
on the phone for hours
about school and television
and what they would wear.
Yes, we remember Maria
by keeping her room the way it was,
with a row of dolls on a shelf,
and her clothes in the closet
or neatly stacked in drawers.
Her bed is also made up
just the way she liked it,
with a soft thick comforter
and lots of fluffed up pillows
propped against the headboard.
“You can melt right in,”
she used to say with a big smile
when we tucked her in for the night,
happy to be safe and comfortable
in her own bed.
Unfortunately, the bed is now
as neat as the room
because there’s nothing left
for it to remember,
just as there are no more trips to take,
holding her hand,
as we walk down those antiseptic halls.
So we remember Maria.
But it isn’t enough,
because memory is only for the living
and everyone forgets.
And because we will never forget
walking down those halls for the last time
and leaving the building, alone.
Yes, we remember Maria
and are reminded every day
that now even her love for us
is just a memory in the one’s who were loved.