When I am done, will you have known me?
Seen inside the empty spaces, overseen remembered embraces, known my fear’s personal faces?
When I am done, will you have heard me?
Bright joy over small things, know when my laughter rings, which songs I often quietly sing?
When I am done, will you have seen me?
The ‘me’ I see, the me I aim to be, the me that only others see?
When I am done, will you have felt me?
Shared finger touches on baby skin, trace my face where wrinkles set in, warmth of my body as the days begin?
When I am done, what will I be – to thee, and thee and thee?
Inspiration – the passing of a co-worker today, the loss of a quality person.