Mmm, hmm. Mmm, hmm. Song’s in my breath this morning, dear heart. “Some bright morning, when this life is over, I’ll fly away.”
Here’s the basin, dear heart; here’s the soap, the towels. “To that home on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away.”
So, dear heart, let me take your hand. You wake? Morning time, sir. Your eyes open; good. You sleep okay? Good, good. You remember me? Mary Ann? Right, I’m your aide, here to get you up for breakfast. You hungry? Get you some coffee soon, black and hot like you like it. First wash up a bit. Freshen up, start the day out right.
Ah, this man’s bright hands. When I hold his right hand, his skin is translucent. I see through it like cellophane over one of those hollow decorated eggs. You peer inside at frost flowers, you see blue veins; you see tendons flex and stretch, bones lift and bend and twist. Each joint, a full knot, moves slippery in my hand, soapy lavender smell washing away that night-bloom sweat. Flesh at the curved edge of his palm like putty rolled between silk.
When you get to this age, all human hands come down to this: bone under silk, my hands in blue vinyl gloves holding and turning his hands, passing the washcloth over the skin like polishing silver for Thanksgiving table. Silver and mica and blue and bone. Body heat. Lavender. My eyes fall over his hands, his eyes, his winged and naked shoulder. Silence; his ragged breath; the ringing in my ears as of distant and unearthly bells.
“I’ll fly away, oh glory, I’ll fly away (in the morning). When I die, hallelujah by and by, I’ll fly away.”
— Mary Ann Barton
The song is I’ll Fly Away (O Brother, Where Art Thou? Soundtrack) by Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss. The date is September 11.