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Home » Poetry » Issue 7 » Grief demands time to be felt

Grief demands time to be felt

I don’t remember what I wore to the funeral.
Was it black, to match the dark days that came suddenly?
Was it white, to mirror the blankness in my mind?
Did it even matter?

I don’t remember how I got to the cemetery.
Did I ride with friends, drowning in irrelevant stories?
Did I ride with family, reminiscing about a life well lived?
Did we talk at all? Was I crying the whole way through?

I don’t remember what I wore to the memorial service.
Months had passed, yet it felt fresh, raw.
Questions swirled in my mind with no answers.
What did it mean? Would I never see him again?

I don’t even remember what I wore
to the tombstone unveiling.
Years later, I relied on photos to remind me.
A bright pink dress, as if to say I had healed.
What does it mean to be healed?

Five years later, I admitted I was not okay,
I don’t remember who I saw at the counseling office.
All I know is I needed to talk.
What did we talk about on the first day?

************************************************************************

Years later, I lost a job I loved…

I don’t remember what I wore to work that day.
I remember the email that sank my heart
I had a month to hand over.

I don’t remember driving home that evening.
Was there music?
Was I talking to myself?

I don’t even remember what I wore on my last day.
Did I even go to work?
How do you dress to say farewell to a place
where your heart belonged?

And in that same season, I lost love…

I remember the message.
My heart broke.
All love was lost without notice.

I don’t even remember what I wore
the last time I saw him.
Were we happy?
Were there signs?
How did we end up here?

I don’t remember how I put
myself to sleep each night.
A heart hurting.
A pain untold.

A father, a job, a lover.
All different, yet the same.