Sure I make a lot of bad jokes, and display a great deal of ill humor, but the truth behind the uncouth..........I am often humbled by the mystery of love and support that people display towards those who mean the most to them. This was written about a woman, a mother, a wife, a person, spending many months in a hospital for severe and chronic respiratory failure. Although I felt I was "crossing a line" of confidentiality in some way, I sent the poem to this family. Much, much later, I received a thank-you note from them. It felt like the footnote, to a footnote.

Humbled

"This lady is fun"
Her daughter said to me,
The portrait on the wall
Displayed her lovingly.

She held her mothers hand
And gently stroked her hair,
It felt like I was standing
In a sanctuary there.

Her husband gazed into her eyes
And only saw her beauty,
He'd gladly suffer all her pain
In love, and not for duty.

The part I played seemed minor
In the drama on this stage,
I felt just like a footnote
At the bottom of the page.

"My mother is the strong one"
Her daughter said to me,
And in a moments silence
I was humbled by the three.

Fibril_late; 11/94