Wednesday, December 17, 2008

THE TUNNEL

In the spirit of sharing both the good and the bad on this blog, having it be a therapeutic space and so somewhere to practice the art of letting go, and forgetting that that there are so many of you out there reading this (but remembering that you are all dear to me) – here's a shot at a "poetic" recap.



THE TUNNEL

Goin down the road with Emmanuel.
Still waiting to grow up, powerful and young at 42.
Poised for another glorious birthday marathon
through my beloved streets in just a few weeks.
Grooving on the soundtrack to the most blessed life known.

Goin down the road with Emmanuel.
A little stomach setback taken in stride.
On the new-to-me medical highway a week later,
focus shifts, the ante is upped, as things turn orange.
No liver virus is a mixed bag; each answer begs more questions.
The stakes rise and the ride progresses to gloomier places.
Exits slide by to the left and right, tempting in the rear-view.

Goin down the road with Emmanuel.
“Covering all bases”- one time precautions - become mile markers of doom.
Fear challenges hope by Halloween as worst-case scenarios loom.
My Sweetest Three pay the tunnel toll with me.
The wheel more anchor than steering.
At each off ramp, I pray for the best result at that moment.
The driver tangibly next to me always delivers.

Goin down the road with Emmanuel.
Destination unknown – now as ever.
Trust in him and dread battle inside my heart and head.
Needing a misdiagnosis or minor miracle,
rough roads remain at best…or worse.
Challenged by "thy will be done"; down with his plan unless it undermines mine.
My directions never included a premature dead end.

Goin down the road with Emmanuel.
Buoyed through surgery by the whisper of a thousand prayers.
Emerging from that tunnel saved by sure hands and miracle-giving family and friends,
all packed into a station wagon cruising towards brighter sunshine.
A life once lost now gained, where only precious days remain.
Though the sword of Damocles dangles above my road to an unknown end – that's okay.
Still goin where the water tastes like wine.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

4 comments:

AllenY said...

May the cold darkness of the tunnel slide off of your shoulders. May it fall to the ground behind you where it can be trampled and forgotten.

Marie said...

;)

Zeke Chivas said...

Hey - Sorry I am late to the party as usual. You've gone so many miles ahead since first sharing the news. You're already at Dorney's and I just left the library. It sounds like you've got your head on straight, and your pacing is good, and your eyes are pinwheeling in every direction to gather and absorb and learn and spot obstacles to overcome. Please let me know what I can do to help, beyond the obvious comic relief and distraction. I have arms to carry you, and hands to hold you, and legs to run this distance with you (or just errands or whatever). Your call and your calling is our call to arms. Call out to us and your army will appear to support you into victory in any battle. As soon as I can find your dang number I'll give you a call.

annmarie said...

Hey Franco
I LOVE the new picture...all of your smiles are contageous!!

I hope you are enjoying this wonderful time with Jacquelyn, Noah and Ana...I bet Christmas is a blast with Noah and Ana this year:)

Praying for your continued speedy recovery.

AnnMarie