Some Assembly May Be Required
by Laura LeHew
published in The Fem 2016
you are in denial
your eyes are hyacinth red
you page through your daughter’s wedding album
you flood 1,000 lakes with tears
you lie
& you say it’s about her
divorce
you buy a kayak
you buy an oar but
not a lifejacket not a helmet
ask who wants to look through this with me
one more time you fear
you might have missed something
you could have missed anything
you lost your house after your heart
attack
but now
submerged you ask & you ask & you ask
why not you
& already there is so much water
in the binder the hospital gave you to navigate around
your husband &
you get a purple caregiver ribbon—pin it on your long sleeve
shirt you are so cold—your
friends all come to visit you crash into end-stage
you become proficient at chemo-day valet parking
at first you thought you would be the one to go
you confess your grief
you dry your eyes
hop up to make lasagna
his favorite
your husband suddenly has been diagnosed—
esophageal cancer and you
you wish you could remember if
you could swim
