302: The Waiting Room

Any number of minutes in Heaven

becomes permanent when you die.

Assuming there is a Heaven.

But even if there isn't,

even if there's only a waiting room

dressed in green with flowers and trees,

I dreamed that those who love us

would wait for us there

and meet us in the end.

Once's been waiting since I was three,

maybe four.

I barely remember him, beyond stories

of how I painted his paws green.

Apparently we adopted him,

and everyone doubted he would be fit

for a child.

But we surprised them all, didn't we?

The second one

I promised I'd come home to.

He slept

pressed against my stomach

and kissed my cheeks when I cried.

He liked it

when I scratched him between his eyes.

The last time I saw him

I promised I'd come home

after my exams.

The day before I came home,

I found out he passed a few days

before.

But you're still waiting, aren't you?

The third passed in the summer.

I barely remember choosing her,

but she's always been there, the core

we didn't realise we had.

I was the last

who saw her awake.

She hadn't moved

for twelve hours,

so when I woke up

I went to sit with her.

I petted her head.

She looked at me,

and whatever it was

that was her

left.

What lay before me

I didn't recognise anymore.

You're looking after the guys, though, aren't you?

The fourth

was ill for weeks.

Skin and bone, barely ate.

It was a relief, they said,

when he moved on.

But I wasn't there for it.

I didn't see his illness.

I saw him golden and warm,

with lines of white in his eyebrows;

I saw him old but alive,

happy to walk alongside me

for an hour or two

on flat ground

before he went back home.

But you're full of life now, aren't you?

This morning I got a call

and found out that the fifth

had moved on.

I saw her a few weeks ago.

Kept her with me

for the few days I stayed.

She liked to sleep

with her head on my leg,

but was too old

to jump onto the bed,

sometimes too old

to move.

But she always came when I called.

And you'll come when I call this time too, won't you?

You'll all be there for me, won't you?

---

Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

---

Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.