And then after I told you that you would die
You said, When I’m gone, will you take care of my cats
And I said, Of course, honey, I will take care of your cats
I didn’t say I should be taking care of the children you would never have

And I didn’t say how can you be so calm about your own death
And I didn’t say God I wish I could fall to the ground screaming because
that’s what mothers do when their children die no matter how old they are
And I didn’t say I hate you God right now more than ever

And I didn’t say there is no philosophy of life that covers this
I didn’t say how am I supposed to breathe when you stop
And I didn’t say how am I going to wash your body
and dress you in your favorite pajamas
and cover you with the blanket you have been carrying around for thirty-five years
and put Yoda next to you, you silly Star Wars freak,
and then wait for them to come get you, my life, my latitude, my longitude

And I didn’t say how much my world revolved around you (oh only about 99 percent)
And I didn’t say what a relief it would be for your pain to end
And I didn’t say that once you were gone I would stop suffering in the old way and start suffering in the new way
And I didn’t say that living in the crater of your death would be my burden
and that sleeping in your bed would be my solace
and that you would die again every morning the moment I woke up

But I did say that I would take care of your cats

And then I did