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Jan 15
Forgotton memories stomped in like strangers at a funeral, uninvited and unwanted, smiling like they belonged, but no one recognised their songs. As they talked, as they drank and sang, as they told their stories they became more strangely familiar. We found their smiles infectious despite our resistance and started to recognise some of their tunes at their insistence. Faint but familiar laughter echoed from fathoms below and slowly our mourning began to losen its wet hold. Our sadness became tinged with a happiness long forgotton and scenes from years long gone rose from the bottom of our dark well of emotion, lifting our faces to the surface, giving us a glimpse of a greater hope and clearer purpose, to tell our stories, with laughs and tears finding an uncomfortable coexistence as we danced and shared this messy remembrance.
Grief is a messy business.
Steve Page
Written by
Steve Page  56/M/London, U.K.
(56/M/London, U.K.)   
256
 
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