You're still here

Sometimes, when I'm really exhausted
when I haven't slept in what feels like days
and my nerves have been worn threadbare
I remember you.

I remember the way you laughed and scrunched your nose.
I remember how your favorite word was amazing
everything in the world was amazing
and I remember asking you what you were like
when you saw something truly amazing
and you told me you thought everything really was amazing.

that was amazing.

I miss you but I can't tell you that because you weren't You.
You were an idea. You are an idea.

What you are to me is something that doesn't really exist
but this fallacy is born of your reality.
I want to thank you but I can't thank you for being
the symbol I needed, the sign, the light, the thing you never saw.

I'm so proud of you.
You've changed the world.
At least my world.

And now look at you. Standing atop the hill so many struggle to climb.
so far ahead of where I would even aspire to be,
You rarely seem to look back.
I often wonder if you lie when you mention missing me.

I can't open my eyes because the sun is too bright but I try.
the tears stream down my face as I struggle to see you clearly.
eventually I'll stop.
eventually I'll give up.
eventually I'll admit you're gone. That you don't remember.
That it's over.

But now, when I close my eyes tight
when my breathing evens and I am finally still,
in those moments I lose track of the line between
those things that are real
and those things that exist only in my dream.

and then I let myself believe
You're still here.







It's always a bad sign when the name Maude Gonne comes to mind.

Precious in the sight of the Lord are the death of his servants.

Billie Maxine Paul McKinney
1927 - 2007

     Billie Maxine Paul McKinney, 80, beloved Mother, Grandmother, Great-Grandmother, Sister and friend passed peacefully on June 21, 2007, after a valiant fight against a debilitating auto-immune disorder. Billie, nicknamed Winkie by her sister Betty for her skill playing the game of Tiddlywinks, was born in Memphis, Tennessee January 19, 1927 to Erman F. and Edna M. Paul. She moved to Las Cruces with her family in 1945, where she graduated from Las Cruces Union High School and later married Dan McKinney.
     After raising a family of three sons and one daughter, Billie and Dan divorced and Billie moved on to work as a licensed practical nurse. As a nurse, Billie served the Las Cruces community for 21 years, touching the lives of many. Upon retiring from her work at Memorial General Hospital, Billie enjoyed working at several national parks, traveling through the United States, Canada and Europe, gardening, and spending time with friends and family.
     Billie was preceded in death by her parents, sister Martha Joy Paul and former husband Dan McKinney. Billie is survived by sisters Kathryn Phaup, Betty Maluf Tver, and Nancy Aderhold and her husband Jon, son Jim McKinney and wife Elaine, son Daniel Dale "Bear" McKinney and wife Lucille, son Bill McKinney and wife Helen, daughter Barbara Streander and husband Kim, granddaughter Melissa Roetker and husband Sean, granddaughter Melanie Gonzales and husband David, grandson Dan McKinney, granddaughters Megan and Kate McKinney, granddaughters Lauren and Kristen Streander, great-granddaughters Layne Roetker and Amber Gonzales and great-grandsons Nick and Mathew Gonzales.
     Aunt Winkie leaves behind many nephews and neices. She is also survived by extended family Della McKinney, James and Sheila Richardson, Nita and Larry Cohorn, and Wade and Jodi Richardson and their children. In addition to her family, Billie leaves behind many friends in the US, Canada and Germany.
     Billie will be remembered for her strong spirit and courage that she shared, even in her final days.
     The family thanks the staff at Mesilla Valley Hospice for the caring service they provided. In lieu of flowers, the family requests memorial contributions be made to the Mesilla Valley Hospice, 299 E Montana, Las Cruces, NM 88005, Church Triumphant or a charity of your choice. A memorial service will take place Wednesday, June 27, beginning 10:30 A.M. at Church Triumphant, 2020 North Valley Drive, Las Cruces, NM 88007

I feel nothing
I feel broken and numb
Even the pain is disconnected from my reality
Nothing touches my mind

Sever the tether
I feel like my strings have been cut
Now I’m floating free
Erratic and uncontrollably

____________________________________


When she died
I was there
I was the only one there
I held her hand
And read to her
Psalms 116
As I read she opened her eyes
Eyes that had been closed
In near comatose sleep for days

She couldn't breathe
She died holding my hand
Hearing my voice

____________________________________


I have flashbacks
The clicking sound in her throat
The far off
But terrified
Look in her eyes
As she struggled to breathe
Struggled to live

Holding her hand I told her it was okay
It was okay
She could let go
Go home
Go rest
It’s over

I still feel like I have blood on my hands

She wanted to die
Chose to end treatment
Chose to enter hospice
But how can I know if in that instant she relented
Reached out her hand to live
And I simply waved as she fell away from me

____________________________________


Hour after hour I dream
Every night
Every time I close my eyes

I dream about being there
Feeding her
Massaging the cramps from her legs
Reading the bible to her
Those moments we shared in her last days

I dream about being there when she passed
Holding her hand
About having to decide whether she lives or dies
In my dreams she wants to live
And in my dreams I let her die

I dream about being alone at the funeral
Screaming at the top of my lungs
No one can hear me

I dream about death
Chasing me for hours
For miles
I have to run away from the people I love
Or death will take them too

Listening to the breathing of my family
I wait on edge
A phantasmagoria of death tainting every thought
I hear the clicking sound
Louder and more frightening than some ominous heart beat

I wait
Unable to sleep
Until morning when it is safe


____________________________________


I wake
Starting from my bed
My eyes open wide
I prepare to bolt from the house
As fast as I am capable

I have to be there
Must be there
She is waiting for me to come
To feed her
To read to her
To be with her

She is…
           …Dead

In that moment I feel it all again
I will wake like this for months
Without her there
I have no reason to wake
It feels like my purpose has been taken from me

I feel hollow
And broken
I cannot escape my mind
Never for long
The world is bittersweet and grey

With time will come the better days

____________________________________

One week
Since she passed
Thursday June 28th
One week and one year
Two mothers
One to either parent
A year for my mother
A week for my father

Precise aligning dates
The cuts are that much deeper
New wounds tracing over old scars

Death is not difficult for the dead
It is for the living
Left behind
Who feel a hole being cut in their existence
Part of them being torn away

I am one of the hollow men
What you see is a shell

You won’t find me for looking
I am gone from you
When or if I’ll return remains unseen

Take pleasure
In not having known this pain

"Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

"Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."

There are some gratitudes
That no words are expansive enough to contain
No notes with which to express in melody
No color or line with which to envision it
And such is that gratitude
That I would offer you
Thank you

For holding my hand
When I was scared to fall
For believing in me
When I could not find strength
To believe in myself
For teaching me
I am what I make myself
That strength is not always visible
That it is in the silence that meaning often lies

You taught me to craft my own wings
With which to fly above
The level plane of tradition
And expectation
You took my hand
And lead me to the ledge
You became the breath of Zephyr
That would carry me in the direction of my dreams

You taught me the meaning
Behind wordless looks and quiet smiles
To understand human need
And that solace
Is in the laughter of a child

There is a sharp divide between
You as most people see
Self-contained
Seemingly attached to no one and nothing
And you as you rarely let others see
Connected
Understanding and loving

It is a paradox beyond words
To see the passion and strength
You quietly cradle in your heart
Concealed by the lullaby siren-song
You sing to keep those from coming too close
There is always distance

When I look in your eyes
I never see hopelessness
But there is never outpouring hope
It seems to be something you
Try not to consider too often

And though I try
I cannot capture
What I perceive in you
Anymore than I can describe
A face
By looking at a shadow

Yet there have been whispers
Teaching me to understand
Tomorrow is not today
It is tomorrow
Yesterday has passed
It cannot be changed
Today is all we have

I will never fully understand
The gift you gave me
This is a fight no one should face alone
Purpose
You handed me meaning
And I have nothing to give you
But my promise

I will fight for them
“[The] huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse”
My Promise
I will be in the trenches with you

But that’s tomorrow
Today all I can give are my words
Thank You
Beyond what words can say
Thank You