On Living (a rambling draft)

You think it will kill you,

The grief.

You are convinced

That at any moment

The last bit of air will be syphoned from your lungs

And you

Mercifully

Will be finished.

After all, what else could be possible

Under these dire circumstances?

But time passes

As time does

The sun rises and sets

The moon looks in on you

And the birds urge you to get up,

Make something of yourself

And you don’t die.

You, miraculously, continue living

Doing, being, going, seeing

The next thing you know

Happy days appear betwixt the sad ones

Your face remembers how to smile

Your heart, how to laugh

Your body, how to dance

And you wonder sometimes

Silently, to yourself

Whether this is a betrayal,

This life…

This love, this meal, this book, this

Utter enjoyment

Of a world

Without them

I am beginning to see

That is not a betrayal

Oh, no!

It is a requiem

And all the love between us

Still exists

What was true yesterday is true today

And this life

He fought for this

For me, for us

And every time we laugh

Dance

Eat

Continue on in spite of ourselves

We honor him.

Only the Good

Billy Joel said.

Now I see it.

Why are all the good ones leaving? It’s like a mass die-off, but only of the worthy. The ones who might have a shot at wielding Mjolnir.

Where are you all going? What happens to us who are left? What is the mission? Most importantly, how do I become worthy enough to go too?

Only

I’m breathing ragged, clotted breaths

The world has taken on a putrid tint

I can’t mend it, I can barely pretend it.

I only want to go to where he is.

I’m Sorry

I hate myself for saying no to you.

For huffing and puffing and being annoyed with you.

For not spending every moment I had learning from you.

For ever making you feel unwanted or uninvited or a nuisance.

You were the greatest person in the world to me. You were the world itself. I spent all 41 of my years trying to be someone you could be proud of.

I never succeeded. And still, you loved me.

I did not deserve your goodness, your open hearted delight in me. Likely that is why I miss it so much. I’m so sorry, Daddy.