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For Mother’s Day

I don’t remember your voice,
Or what would make you laugh
I don’t remember your hands,
Not really, not enough to count
I don’t remember the last time
I saw you healthy, rather my last memories
are as you live ill and dying,
not what either of us want
I know there were times before
when you insisted on going out
and seeking hidden places
of import to you and dragging us along
Times when we yelled and laughed and cried
but today, 16 years and two months since you died,
what I remember most isn’t what I remember
most clearly or what has faded best
or even all the things I wish I knew
Today I remember that you love me
Which is what I believe you wanted to last
Written May 7, 2011

A friend lost a parent this week.  It is not my story to tell, but the death was not unexpected and prayers for S and family would be appreciated.

It felt as though my world had ended
when my loved one died
and I have come to the knowledge that this
was perfectly normal,
though nothing was normal or right.
Of course, I felt that the world had ended
because it had,
the world in which my loved one had lived
had ended and was no more.
Never again would I see their smile,
or hear their voice.
Never again would I be able to ask advice
or seek a hug from those arms.
The world I had lived in was over.
And I have come think,
that mourning is this task of
saying goodbye not just to a person
but to the world that was
and
getting use to a new world,
one you never wanted to live in.

written January 2010

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