In a Mixture of Epsom Salts, Water and Tears

In a mixture of Epsom salts, water and tears
I soaked in my favorite past time, reading in the bath.
It’s like a ceremony and can easily go on for an hour or more
I top up the hot water by turning the tap with my toes.
The bathroom was huge, nearly as large as the room where I slept
I loved that bedroom, facing the morning sun with views of cliffs and sea.
Perfect home for my 31 year old self to relax after a weeks working travels.
That night I’d pulled a book blindly from the shelf to join me in my bath and did what I so often do, open at no particular page and read exactly where my eyes fall, believing there to be a message, and I’d find one regardless.
This time the message was clear, no need to dig deep for meaning. I’d asked a simple question out loud to the world when undressing, and the answer bellowed out through the words on the page as though straight from the Gods.
And like that, my decision was made.
I called you to let you know, I was on my way.
I packed my case, half naked, then lay in bed awake for hours
Until sleep took my sobbing self, by the hand and let me rest.
The next morning I booked the flight, 22 hours in total, via Dubai.
Such a long journey ahead.
I wondered if I’d make it on time and then if 3 weeks was enough.
I felt sick at the unsympathetic practicalities I had to resolve.
How could I possibly ask you or any other member of our family,
exactly how long you had left to live.

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