Springtime lingering on my lips
/
i breathe into the sound of baby birds
calling for their mother
and i am reminded that you never will
More family calculus
/
I don’t want to imagine a world that he isn’t part of – not at all – but there is no world that they both are alive in, and no way my mind can accommodate a version of that world, even imaginary. So, if I imagine her here, I imagine him not. And it’s impossible not to wonder at times like these. Mundane, silly times where I’m frustrated that we can’t agree and my mind slips off into that world-that-might-have-been. And more serious times, birthdays, milestones, all the rest. What would it have been like if she were here? Then he wouldn’t be.
Read MoreGrief ages you
/
Grief doesn’t simply change you; it undoes you, and in the unraveling, it asks who you will be now. Will you let it consume you, or will you let it shape you into something raw but resilient, broken but somehow beautiful?
Read MoreBroken-hearted
/
This is how much she loves her daughter, enough to rend apart cells from deep within her chest, under layers of flesh and bone, without even lifting a finger. It may look as though she’s just sitting and staring at the wall, but inside, this bloody, violent, spectacle is unfolding.
Read Morenot this time of year again
/
with heavy hands
i rummaged through her little pink box
to find her Merry Christmas garden flag
and none of it felt merry.
Unknowable
/
But then sometimes you see all at once how much more loss has piled up over time. The loss of all the potential girls and women she could have been, might have known, might have loved, and the countless unknown people who have lost something by never knowing, never having been loved by, that girl, that woman who might have been.
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