I met someone today-
a mother like me.
A mother whose child died, I met her.
We talked.
She talked mostly-
I listened.
Her story poured out.
Ten years ago, her son died.
Cancer.
He was 34.
So much life ahead of him.
He was special, full of promise.
Oh how she loved him!
I heard it in her voice, saw it in her eyes-
shining there.
She told me how, some days,
she doesn’t get out of bed.
Still.
She shook her head.
I understood.
And there’s this: she’s still here.
She survived.
Some days (I’ll tell the truth)
I don’t want to survive.
Yet I know I must.
I must.
I must.
I tell myself this: I am loved, I am needed.
I know these things are true,
I believe them.
And
the pain is so great,
I feel splintered, shattered into pieces.
Un-whole without her.
Still.
by 