DIABETES BLOG WEEK ENTRY 2: Poetry: The Loudest Thing in the House

Clock tickingOnce again, Karen Graffeo, who blogs at Bittersweet Diabetes is hosting Diabetes Blog Week. The fifth annual Diabetes Blog Week started yesterday and will take place through May 18th.  Day 2: Today’s topic: Poetry.

The Loudest Thing in the House

Clock ticks.

I am alone.  Too low to sleep comfortable.  Will recheck in a few.

Clock ticks.

Seems louder than when I first sat down, seems slower too.  No matter what I do or when, I seem to find myself in this chair at this hour often.

Clock ticks.

It’s always too quiet.  It’s a deafening quiet; it’s a parent’s quiet.

Clock ticks.

I read the newspaper, which I have read twice already.  Passing the time to enter her room again.

Clock ticks.

I recheck her blood sugar, at 145 I can go back to sleep.  I sit on the bed’s edge. I stare at her face. I am tired.

Clock ticks.

She sleeps soundly.  On one hand she does so well.  She is getting so big.  Childhood passes quickly.

Clock ticks.

I push the hair back from her face.  She has battled this for some time.  She seems to be winning.

Clock ticks.

I make my way back to my bed, my head softly sinks into my pillow.  My last thought is always the same.  A cure.  There is a cure.  We must find it.

Clock ticks.

I am a diabetes dad.

Please visit my Diabetes Dad FB Page and hit ‘like’.


10 replies on “DIABETES BLOG WEEK ENTRY 2: Poetry: The Loudest Thing in the House”

Such a good read, Tom. That clock ticking… yeah, it’s such a constant in our lives. No experience from the D-parenting side, but that waiting for checks and hypo-rises and hyper-falls are never ending. And hopefully sooner rather than later, the clock will tick down even more on the cure. Thanks for this.

BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU I surely had those who live with diabetes in my mind when I wrote this……I can only imagine what that ticking means to you(them).

Thank you for this. It’s powerful. Part of what I am loving about D-blog week is reading the perspectives that are so different from mine. I was the D-child in this situation, and I can imagine my parents doing and feeling this. It gives me a better appreciation for what you all go through for us.

Awesome! Your poem was better than mine! Mine was a litlte dark. However, my head never hits the pillow softly, it hit and it sticks to my face from the sweet. LOL.

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