It was a graveyard and overcast sky and I sat with book and accordian in hand, hearing the world with its screams swallow up around me. The people whom I had loved and lost, Papa with his silver eyes Mama her sharp tongue and tough love Rudy whose hair the colour of lemons and questioned why, the living and dead, worlds apart, yet both did not have a choice. I stood and screamed so that everything shook the burning rubble and ash and dust willing my words to bring it all back but it did not come, and my breath rose in gasps. Death had looked me in the eye and said, “It’s not time yet.” I would shut my eyes to the world only decades later. I will understand that there was hate and pain there was sadness but even more so, there was love and joy. I will know that the people I loved had reason to kiss goodbye whether it was their own hurt or saw it as a necessity, but they were never truly gone from me always somewhere nearby, in the thick and thin frail and worn of times. I would learn to forgive Death that day. I will understand that and I will be hurt, but I will be okay.
~
Not all deaths are sad. Some, meant to ease their own pain, Are called freedom. While some, Meant to ease the pain of others, Are called love.
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