What a beautiful tribute to your sister, Susan, and a beautiful piece about grieving. It does come in waves. It hits when you least expect it. And I know, too, that it will never go away. I don't want it to. I want to feel the ache whenever I think of him. It goes along with the joy I feel when I think about our good days, our happy times.
If I cry at times it's the way it needs to be. How could I not cry when I've lost the love of my life? Why would I not want to grieve?
Mom died 13 years ago and I feel her presence now more strongly than when her death was fresh. Her presence, let’s call it “grief,” is warm, and whimsical (as she was) and rips through me unmercifully, causing a tear of pain and recognition to fall on my cheek. The tears are hers. They spill from me, and in wiping them away, I remember her doing the same for my tiny cheeks, holding my arms up for her, enveloped in her arms, the tears giving memory to gather over the course of my life. I don’t want to stop grieving. I want to carry her with me. She will not be boxed, although she might enjoy a little jar, a vessel, to rest and play with the little string that is still in the button holes of her favorite sweater, now in my nightstand.
I needed this today. My best friend died last month and I am up to my ears organizing her memorial service. I can’t imagine a time when I will stop missing her, and don’t want that day to ever come.
What a lovely way of honoring your sister. As Ramona says, I don't want the grief to go away - my husband was the most important person in my life for over 60 years - that loss in undeniable and I miss him everyday.
So well said!! I hate the very idea of “moving on.” (I don’t like it about political events, either--history has lasting effects that can’t be erased.) OF COURSE, we go on. But the idea that we have to “let go” or “start fresh” in order to do so is another symptom of the culture you describe. Thank you.
So well said!! I hate the very idea of “moving on.” (I don’t like it about political events, either--history has lasting effects that can’t be erased.) OF COURSE, we go on. But the idea that we have to “let go” or “start fresh” in order to do so is another symptom of the culture you describe. Thank you.
What a beautiful tribute to your sister, Susan, and a beautiful piece about grieving. It does come in waves. It hits when you least expect it. And I know, too, that it will never go away. I don't want it to. I want to feel the ache whenever I think of him. It goes along with the joy I feel when I think about our good days, our happy times.
If I cry at times it's the way it needs to be. How could I not cry when I've lost the love of my life? Why would I not want to grieve?
Mom died 13 years ago and I feel her presence now more strongly than when her death was fresh. Her presence, let’s call it “grief,” is warm, and whimsical (as she was) and rips through me unmercifully, causing a tear of pain and recognition to fall on my cheek. The tears are hers. They spill from me, and in wiping them away, I remember her doing the same for my tiny cheeks, holding my arms up for her, enveloped in her arms, the tears giving memory to gather over the course of my life. I don’t want to stop grieving. I want to carry her with me. She will not be boxed, although she might enjoy a little jar, a vessel, to rest and play with the little string that is still in the button holes of her favorite sweater, now in my nightstand.
I needed this today. My best friend died last month and I am up to my ears organizing her memorial service. I can’t imagine a time when I will stop missing her, and don’t want that day to ever come.
She will always be with you. Sometimes it will hurt more than other times, but she will always be there.
What a lovely way of honoring your sister. As Ramona says, I don't want the grief to go away - my husband was the most important person in my life for over 60 years - that loss in undeniable and I miss him everyday.
Thank you, Susan. I lost a dear friend too early recently. Your poems were beautiful and heartbreaking. Hugs to you.
Thanks, Susan. I’ve experienced much the same grieving for my parents who both died in 1991. It never quite goes away.
Yes
Thank you
Every day of life spent
in every mundane spot.
Few locations that don’t recall,
sometimes contaminate,
sometimes elate,
all create and restimulate
memories of loss
and rage at what was lost.
It’s more intense
as on the date
with her I can no longer relate.
On 7/7 we would always celebrate.
And now it’s just too late.
. A piece of me is gone
a piece of me remains
Inside the pain remains.
And yet mt love retains.
.
So well said!! I hate the very idea of “moving on.” (I don’t like it about political events, either--history has lasting effects that can’t be erased.) OF COURSE, we go on. But the idea that we have to “let go” or “start fresh” in order to do so is another symptom of the culture you describe. Thank you.
So well said!! I hate the very idea of “moving on.” (I don’t like it about political events, either--history has lasting effects that can’t be erased.) OF COURSE, we go on. But the idea that we have to “let go” or “start fresh” in order to do so is another symptom of the culture you describe. Thank you.