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Stroke

 

I owe you a million kisses.
I owe you a million hugs--
and now that you are my Mrs.,
I should keep you safe from thugs.
But I have been dealt a hard blow
which leaves me unable to do
the things I delighted in so,
and that includes loving you.
If I could hold you once more,
I’d cherish the love you provide.
If fate would open the door
and allow me to walk inside,
I’d give you a million kisses
now that you are my Mrs.

 

This poem appears in How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver