pretty in a summer dress.

IMG_6483aSometimes I see
a silent prayer in your face,
a small understanding that
something isn’t right here.

That young innocence
protects your heart
from the great loss
we all know is true.

That innocence that only
feels the love you know
and not a whole hole gaping wide
with so many missed moments
in the stretched future.

Your little words of longing
about how you can still say
whatever you want
because your mama said so
break my heart
even a little more.

I miss your Pa too,
little lady,
I do.

grief.

It’s a fierce thing that
hits me hard every few hours,
a hard knot between my sternum and soul
that refuses to unravel,
a despair so sharp I am sure
it could break me.

The days between the day you died
and today
feel like centuries.
There is so much to tell you.

I brave this summer with chipped nails
and a silent half-empty heart,
where your memory, our memories,
sit to stew and fuel me until tomorrow,
where I will have to wake up,
miss you,
and start over again.

happy birthday dad.

Scan 111050005
Dad,

I love you and miss you so much.

They keep telling me that time will take care of the pain, and my heart will be less heavy with every day that passes. It’s only been 10 days. They are wrong. Everyday I miss you more than the day before, and need to talk to you. Everyday I have angry moments because it doesn’t feel fair. And still, everyday I am a little bit grateful that you no longer have to live in misery or pain, suffering to breathe. I feel both selfish and selfless, my heart goes back and forth, because I want you back, but it was best for you to go. You held on too long, in fact, for us. Up until that last moment, I suspect you held on for us.

Please keep sending me light. I am trying, but now is when I need it.

5.27.13

That sinking feeling that there is no fixing this,
no going back.

I imagine that this is what drowning feels like,
the suffocation of fighting
against such strong forces
that will ultimately win.

We know it will get us,

but we fight anyway.  
We hang on until our fingers bleed,

and our hearts cry.