I’m now at that wonderful age

when I am finished

with my final colonoscopy

during this lifetime!

The morning started quite well.

I felt calm and quiet and

let any concerns go during

my daily meditation time.

The thought-provoking part was

the day before

during the hours it took

to consume one cup of “preparation”

every ten minutes,

until all four liters

were “spent!”

By midnight

I felt like a thoroughly whooshed


interior washed and vacuumed,

now spick ‘n span,


from a highly proficient

automated carwash!

On a conscious level

I felt very much at ease;

I did not fall asleep

until 4:00,

and I rather suspect now

that it may have had

something to do with

some upcoming adventure.

You reckon so?

Jill and I waited

for my name to be called.

Medicare and insurance card,

with my list of meds and supplements

in hand,

I was greeted with

signatures, more questions and

my special ID arm band.

Finally my magic name

was heard;

a nurse ushered

us through a door

where I received my

appropriate attire.

Southern exposure gown

astutely wrapped around

my naked wrinkles,

I packed my stuff

in a special plastic bag and

walked across the hall

to my personal nurse,

my personal gurney,

and my personal room.

I signed a document

promising not to drive

the remainder of the day,

not to make any hard decisions,

to eat lightly, no work,

and rest.

A hug and kiss from Jill

and I’m off to the races.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I listen to people,” I told my

magnificent attending nurse.

She had a sense of humor

and a depth of presence

that completely relaxed me

as we relocated into the

Colonoscopy O.R.

Dr. Anesthesiologist

turned me on my side,

gently adjusting my gown

for the upcoming adventure.

We swapped light stories

while nurses prepared my

arm to receive the

Happy Gas.

At the precise moment

I said, “Bye ya’ll. See you later,”

and smiling, everyone said,

“Bye now.”

Now, I’m sure

something must have happened

during my wonderful snooze.

I awoke feeling rested and

happy, remembering nothing.

“Honey, kiss me,” I said,

and a strange voice came back,

“She’ll be here shortly.”

The doc said, “You got

an A-plus!! Congratulations!

“By the way, you look 65,

not 80!”

Well, that was a great way

to wake up!

It was a perfectly warm

almost autumn afternoon,

sections of a few trees

aflame with memorable Fall tint.

We swayed together in our hammock

until my tummy

said otherwise,

so I sat nearby

and we continued

reading aloud from

an old favorite,

C S Lewis’

Great Divorce.

All that was just yesterday.

As I write today

I glance out my

French door window

and see the empty hammock.

The wilting tomato vines

continue to ripen and sweeten

their Brandywine heirlooms.

Another “last rose of summer”


Invisible warm breezes,

unseen, yet totally present,

compose a huge mystical oscillation

of ten thousand trillion swaying leaves.

Yesterday’s visit to Good Shepherd Hospital,

and that sleepless night before,

now linger upon these numinous currents,

colorfully melding into another season

already being born.

Hal Edwards

September 17, 2015