Untitled poem

As I sit by your bed, holding your hand,
there is a silence in the room that few would understand.
Thirty years to the day, even though, all the doctors said, “No way.“
I find myself remembering all the things I wanted to say.
But, as time slowly wanders by,
I wonder about this moment and how to say goodbye.
As I kiss your forehead, I wonder if you’re still here
and if you can hear me as I whisper, “I love you.”  in your ear.
In the early morning hours of that November day,
I held my mother’s hand as she slowly slipped away.