(Thinking of my sister Bonnie as she bids adieu to
her true love today.)
Please don’t tell me “It will be okay.”
or “It gets easier or less painful with time.
Please don’t tell me not
to weep or gnash my teeth.
Don’t hover.
Don’t tell me not to be angry
or to quit cursing the gods.
I know even now I can laugh at a memory.
Appreciate the kind support.
But it will never be okay and nothing will ever fill the hole.
that is left when one’s true and only love has left, been taken, died or ….
Yes, life will go on and there will be laughter and even joy.
I will, in time, clean out the closets.
Do all the required paperwork.
Perhaps buy a new couch.
Get a more practical car.
Rearrange the furniture.
Even buy a new mattress.
Vote.
Enjoy the generations of children which will remind me
that the two of us – he and I – are responsible for this
collection of souls.
It is all wonderful and good and a blessing and, yet,
It is not okay.
Will not be okay.
But then, it is okay that it is not okay.
Humans are a strange bunch.
We do seem to analyze, dissect, examine,
justify, discount and otherwise
complicate what the simplest of other creatures do so naturally.
Well, perhaps that is not true either.
Animals do die of broken hearts. Do they die asking why?
The ancestors – including dear friends – march before my eyes.
The new babies reach out their arms.
Come play. Let explore.
Written July 9,2018