The Repository of Memory

O Lord,
To You alone
I cry out
And express
The fears
Of my heart.

If the time comes,
Will I be able to stand
As the repository of memory
For her?

Or will I flee,
Playing the part
Of the coward
That I feel
On the inside?

As Ruth clung to Naomi,
So too make me cling.
Make me steadfast.
Make me patient.
Make me strong.
Make me gentle.
Give me peace.

Is it wrong to pray
For a cup of suffering
To pass by?
Is it wrong to pray
For a good death
For a good friend?

You are expansive enough
To know what I mean,
And understand me.
Judge me not harshly.
Consider that I speak
As one who has lost much already.
Could I bear
A parting of that nature?...
A long, wandering walk
Following her in the dark?...

Have mercy, Father...
On the both of us.