Oh Sweet Sandra

Rose Eclipse

        Oh, Sweet Sandra, you’d come home tired 
after a long day of dialysis, your aching body begging for rest, but you felt the need to do their bidding, although they’d treat you so unkindly. 
       Dishes upon dishes, dust upon dust, 
they’d leave it for you, knowing you were sick. You’d cough as you swept, mopped, and cleaned. And every so often, you’d wish you weren’t the Cowardly Lion, so you could leave. 
        Pushing and pushing to make them happy, 
your aged hands that often shook from over-exhaustion. Keeping that smile plastered on your face 
because you had loved your husband and son. And to keep you, they reminded you that they loved you just to fool you in their game of chess. 
        On occasion, you were let out of your cage, as the Scarecrow from Oz was released from his post. You went to the sunshine you called 
your granddaughter. Never would she fail 
to make a smile spread across your face 
when she’d show you her Todo 
or just sit and watch TV with you. 
                         Oh, Sweet Sandra, how one Monday 
you’ve worn yourself out as your frail 
body lies upon the hospital bed, 
withered and fatigued. 
You no longer have to be at beck and call, 
nor have to be part of a love game 
that requires dust and dishes. 
You are free from those shackles and chains.