I Knew She Would

She came.

After a 9 month wait,

9 long months

filled with wondering

when and how,

and why not yet,

she came.


I didn’t realize at first,

I didn’t understand

at first,

but it was her.

She didn’t say much,


“Such a chore.”


Such a chore,

Yes.  Yes it was.

this going to bed each night,

this getting out of bed each day,

this living each day

waiting for you,

wondering if today was the day

you would come.


But you,

being with you,

caring for you,

loving you,

that was Never

a chore.

Not once.



She came.

You came.


And I am grateful.




Related to this piece from March 2, 2016:

She Hasn’t, Not Yet



©Maribeth Batcho All Rights Reserved.








10 thoughts on “I Knew She Would

  1. This is a complicated piece of writing on so many levels. I went to read She Hasn’t, Not Yet. I think there is a story here with parts that I am missing, but I am ok with that. I was wracked with guilt when my mom died because while I love her, there were so many days when what I did felt like duty, not love. I don’t regret any of it, but still… I know she was there last Saturday at our celebration for her. I don’t know if she will come again.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What’s wrong with doing something out of duty? If you didn’t feel such love, you wouldn’t have felt it was your duty. But, I understand what you are saying…
      I hadn’t thought about the writing being complicated, but I can see why you say that. It can be conflicting with religious beliefs, I guess. I am not someone to shy away from heat. In fat, I find myself right in the middle of it without ever trying…
      My mother’s death was complicated, unfortunately. It was surrounded by anger and bitterness, betrayals and suffering, and so much more. It didn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t have been that way. My mother deserved so much better and so much more. Had my mother’s death not been so excruciating, I doubt I would write so much about it. I lost big-time when I lost her. On too many levels. The writing is unpopular, but therapeutic. And so I write about it anyway. For me. For her.
      Thank you for reading and for commenting. You are living the same life, which may be why you are attracted to the pieces. Best.


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