Heart of a Lion, Hands of a Woman: What Women Neurosurgeons Do
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Friday, May 14, 2010


Grief in Philadelphia

I saw him for the first time since
Had to be sad coming to where her light had formerly shone so bright
Too many memories crowding in
No place to hide
I knew the sadness in his eyes.

He asked if I had seen the art
I knew he needed to get away from the crowds
I took his arm and walked him through
His eyes missed Van Gogh, Matisse and more
Not as much as his heart missed her.

To my dear friend-if you read, know you are not alone and know too that it takes time and that I and others are here if you want us.

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