I held my daughter today
carried her
my steps deliberate and slow
pressing her in to
the draggy beating of my heart
I feel her solid weight
my muscles tensed to bear her
and then
oh then!
I place her on the shelf
my daughter is in an urn
by 
by by And Now
the distraction
of vacation
begins to fade and
I am
once again wrapped
in the trappings
of my sorrow.
What
to look forward to?
What
to live for?
Husband , sons,
people who care for me-
yet
it is so hard to grasp,
this motivation
to go on.
I don’t want to but I must
I must.
The feeling that
I no longer
belong
that I don’t
fit
permeates me.
I am forever
changed.
I am as different
from my former self as
day is
from night.
I am a balloon with
no air
no way
to stay aloft.
So empty.
by Christmastime
I know
I know
it’s time to be jolly
to buy and wrap presents
bake
decorate
on and on.
But
my daughter’s in an urn.
Grief
(oh heavy friend)
is my whole wide world.
Even now.
Especially now.
Christmastime.
by Grief is like that music you hear in the store,
always playing in the background.
And it’s the type of music you hate,
so no matter how hard you try,
you can’t ignore it, shut it out.
Some days, just because, I guess,
the volume is turned way up.
You feel the beat in your blood, your bones.
It’s jarring – to the point of being painful
and you wish you knew how to turn the volume down but
you don’t seem to have access to the controls.
In fact, you have no control over any of it.
That’s the harsh reality:
this horrible thing has happened because you have no control,
absolutely none.
The music plays on
and on.
by Grief, or notes from the journey
“There’s not much you can do that’s braver than to continue to live when your child has died.”
exiled from a world I loved, I am unmade
What other choice do I have but to move forward in this life I didn’t choose?
She started by saying “my daughter died…”
Then in starts and stops told the story, cried, shared her anger.
And when she was done said, “well, anyway.”
by She Should Be Here
She should be here.
She should be sitting on the loveseat, drinking a cup of Good Earth tea.
She should be here.
She should be traveling, seeing new things, meeting new people.
She should be here,
loving and being loved by her partner, starting a family.
She should be here,
working, doing what she loves.
She should be here,
listening to music while taking her shower.
She should be here,
watching our favorite shows, watching sports, cheering for her favorite teams.
She should be here,
taking walks along the river, in the woods, on the beach; watching the sunset.
She should be here,
going out to eat, dancing with friends.
She should be here,
swinging on the porch swing, having deep and intimate conversations.
She should be here,
being the best sister ever to her brothers.
She should be here,
singing songs from Disney movies, quoting The Princess Bride.
She should be here,
losing at poker, giving it all away with the look on her face.
She should be here,
lighting up my world, loving life.
She’s gone but (and I’m screaming now)
She should be here.
by