Sunday, January 1, 2012

Wham!


Wham!
A bolt of lightning
a slap up the side of my face
out of the blue
in the midst of driving home
why now? what the f***, I wondered--
and I cried
gasping for breath
grief
going deep
coming out strong
all the anger, rage, emptiness, 
all at once, all over, to the 
core--
missing him so intense
I could not breathe
the agony of knowing, really 
knowing
he was gone
and how much I 
missed him.
The tear came later, running wild, splashing on my shirt,
after I caught my breath
after I figured out
I was grieving hard
and not trying to notice
thinking I’d done pretty good
at “moving on” 
at “dealing with it”
at being a big boy and 
thinking I’d been grieving well,
in that adult
rational 
sensible
way we are “supposed to”.
Orderly, neat, tidy,
like a package ready for the mail.
Ha.
Yet, no one grieves “well”--
we grieve
in all its forms and all its ways
twists and turns and worm holes
Until it hits like a ton of bricks
when you 
least
expect it.
--Neal Lemery 12/31/11

No comments:

Post a Comment