Dedicated to my dear friend Ellen Becker,

January 28, 1949- November 15, 2016

The truth is that you died

Even though you weren’t supposed to

Even though you were just having a prescribed

Heart operation

because your frayed and torn heart muscle

struggled in that dark cavity.

 

Even though you told us you might not make it,

we chose not to believe you

so much that some of us didn’t visit you

or call you in your last days

because we were sure there would still be time to

tell you how much we loved you.

 

Even though we told you not to die

and we told you we would all be waiting

with our soup pots heating

and SALT put away forever,

even the Kosher kind.

 

Even though you had 79 people on your email thread,

all reading your email reports,

that were the picture of civility,

just like you.

Containing nuggets of humor

and brilliant medical knowledge.

 

Even though you had a doctorate and forty years of successful practice,

holding the hands and heads and (damaged) hearts of so many.

Even though you were everyone’s momma and Bruce was waiting.

Even though you may have been ready

Who is truly ready?

Even though you warned us that you might die

and if you did you were satisfied with the life you had lived.

 

I ask you,

were WE supposed to be satisfied with the life

you had lived because

you told us you were?

 

Or were you doing that signature Ellen thing you did so well?

That thing where you figure out what it is that we all need to hear and

then you say it so that if the worst possible outcome were to happen,

and I mean the WORST possible outcome,

were to happen

we could take it

because you told us you were ready to take it.

 

So instead of saying, when we gather:

“it’s a blessing because she isn’t suffering any longer”,

like we often say when someone dies,

We could say:

“She told us she was ready.”

Then we could feel comforted

Then we could go back to the rugala and the rice balls

All the while hearing the tinkling sound of your laughter just out of reach.