Poetic Bloomings Hardest Thing, Poetic Asides Praise

The Hardest Thing

What’s the hardest thing I’ve been through?

I could write about my dad having Alzheimer’s

or my mom’s amputation of her left leg.

I could write about my husband’s mental illness

and the time he lost our car with all our money

somewhere in Oklahoma, and we had two little kids.

I could write about my mother-in-law being attacked

by two chows, nearly killing her.

I could write about my son almost dying when he was eight.

I could write about my coat zipper breaking

in the middle of winter and I had no money

for a coat or even a zipper.

I could write about my brother-in-law

being crushed in a demolition accident

and seeing my nephew draped across the casket,

because no one was allowed to see the body.

I could write about the day my daughter suddenly left.

I could write about my husband having a stroke,

learning to walk again and having a second stroke

which turned him into an old man.

I could write about losing two special people in my life,

one who was with us fifteen years and the other ten.

But instead, I’ll write about my rock Jesus.

I can’t see Him or touch Him,

but to me He’s more solid than Memorial Rock,

as big as a house, that just tumbled down the mountain

about an hour’s drive from my home,

digging a wide trench through the highway.

He’s the one that got me through all of the above.