Today marks year four since my husband died. In this moment, I am OK. For me the day of the milestone is rarely as hard as the time leading up to it. The anticipation gets me. So on a cold gray day in early December I could feel myself going under. I recognized the swell of grief as it came toward me and just let it be. When I surfaced I wrote this poem in just a few minutes. Rather than editing it to death in pursuit of something worth ‘publishing’ I’m simply going to put it out for you to see. It reflects the conflict of wanting the life I had back and at the same time holding dear the life I have now. Grief and joy together.

There are times…

There are times

When I still sink my head into my hands

Not wanting to believe he is gone.

No, not denial just longing.

Longing for a different truth

An alternate universe

Where his kids have both parents

And normal is ordinary.

Where I can love in the moment

Without remembering what is gone…gone.

Where there are no tears

Following these familiar trails down my face.

He’s off wandering…flying.

I’m left behind;

We are left behind.

I try to follow but my feet hold fast

To the ground

Remaining.

I yearn for a time where weather is just weather

Not a trigger for emotions that I will not welcome.

Memory becomes ache,

Ache becomes anguish

Deepening into rolling grief.

For some I shift to pariah.

Not all love is unconditional.

Others fall away

But those who draw closer

Remind me

I am loved.

I know this.

Past and present

I am cherished in a way

I did not expect.

But I had hope

and hope materialized before me in the form of a man

who wore my ring

and now

another who wears newly forged gold

offering me his love.

I give over my whole heart.

But…

There are times…

I want two lives.