My morning was a sunshine with a beautiful start.
That morning,
I remember...
My heart was at peace
My home screamed love and joy
I didn't understand the excitement

Well we said goodbyes to each other
and went our separate ways
Heck! that was my last goodbye
I got hit by a car and died on the spot

The morning ended in tears
then there was a new hello from grief and trauma
introducing themselves to my parents

When will her heart stop?

Will she take her last breath tonight?

When will my phone ring?

Nobody knows -

Not even her.

“How do you deal with a dying friend?”
asked the child to the tree,
who had lived for so many years,
the tall giant much older than he.

“You remember them in the wind,
and in the dirt beneath your feet,
you remember their laughter in the forest,
even if you do not feel complete.

You remember their name
in every person you meet,
you remember them by being strong,
so the goodbye can be bittersweet.

For in life we are who we care for,
both the sickly and the sweet,
so remember those who said goodbye,
and hope that in the next life you’ll meet.”

The tree replied these words to the boy,
hoping he would heed,
for soon the poor boy will realize,
the tree is much wiser than he.

It hangs in the air. It’s stifling. We carry it in our hearts. It’s heavy.
We grieve the missing pieces, but also the empty spaces they belong to.
The parts of ourselves with muscle memories that no longer have a purpose. Parts of ourselves that become inaccessible, and try as we might, we can never enter that space again.

How do you hold a hand that isn’t there?

my emotions are mine,
whether they're
true or false, I'll never
know