accident

leaves fall from the trees still
brown, tan, yellow, orange
she notices the damp and clumpy piles
cluttering her driveway
but not the colors, the beauty

she drives into her small, two-car garage
back from Hillcrest nursing home
sets the twelve-pack of soda on the cement stoop
right outside the door connecting the garage to the house
"Minnesota winders are a good refrigerator,"she says

she walks into the yellow-tinged house
reeks of forty years worth of cigarette smoke
memories and history sit on the furniture
cover the wallpaper

she remembers the time when they all sat around the kitchen table
at dinner after Kent's football practices
Ken laughed and smiled

wallpaper was white then
room not so saturated with smoke
faces young and rambunctious

that was before
the accident

she remembers the day
partly cloudy, upper 60s

screech of black rubber tires on gray pavement
sinking in the pit of her stomach
panic

riding his bike on Holiday Road
down the steep hill
Paul watched wide-eyed
"Ambulances are loud," he thought

slumped bodies don't easily erase themselves
from the minds of children

policemen were there
"Drunk driver," they murmured

she grasped the white plastic handles of the wheelchair
white knuckles
she couldn't stop looking at the eyepatch
covering him up
"Extensive brain damage,"the doctor said

she pressed her lips together
tightly, red
she never went out without putting on lipstick
she had never experienced so many emotions
love, sadness, anger, anger, anger
she had never needed so many questions answered

"Why him? Why a drunk driver?" she thought
"How will I raise my children alone?" she thought
"How will I take care of him?" she thought

never before had she been so angry at her husband
"Why did you walk into the street right then?"
         she wanted to cry
"Why are you leaving me alone?"
        she wanted to scream

time passes like water through fingers
swollen and gnarled with arthritis
children grow into adults
have their own children

she visits him every day
sometimes twice
she is the only one who can understand what he says

she gives him cigarettes outside
when the weather is nice
she knows she shouldn't
they smoke together
she holds the cigarette in his mouth

she complains that the nurses
don't respect the patients at Hillcrest
they use the wrong lotion
they don't listen to her
she plans on moving him over to
Hopkins, where the service is better

she sets her purse on the table
the only noise is the hum of the refrigerator
she turns on the television
dissipates the silence

still
leaves fall from the trees
she never goes out without putting on lipstick
still

4.21.02