Today is five months since we lost you.
It feels so short
And so long.
Next month they say we should be better.
We may get better at this new life,
And appear to move on as we garden, work and plan,
But death is not fixable.
Death is an ever-present partner carried at the chest,
Wondering who will be next,
And if I will be ready for more ghosts.
For the moment,
I have forgotten enough about my
To miss my mom as the spring flowers
I finally got a straight A report card.
My whole life I dreamed about it.
I don’t want it
I don’t want to have a 4.0 “despite” everything.
I just wanted to prove I could
my mom myself.
It’s not that I don’t want to feel it all,
But four bodies and an impending death later,
I do not have the strength.
“They’re not there anymore”
I didn’t believe my dad when he said it,
Years ago after our dog died.
But I watched you leave.
And then I saw the shell of a grandmother gone.
And I knew.
A body is nothing.
I cling to every moment,
Breathing in each whiff of dust and sun.
Because none of it seems real.
All is a dream.
Today I am picking up the ashes of our dog,
Who died two weeks ago – two days after my grandpa,
Because my father is sitting vigil in hospice for my grandmother,
And my mom died at the start of the year.
And my brother kept forgetting as he fights to find stability.