It must be harder to stay than to go
No matter how
It’s always harder for those left at home.
end of the line, your time
quick; gone in a blitz
A moment of pain replaced with gain
“At least it’s a better place”
“A better place”, they say.
But what about us?
Left down below,
In this hole
Sorrowful.
Grief that stays
never goes away,
just grows old.
It changes shape,
Hurts in expected places
No longer caught off guard
I can’t regret much,
Everything’s for a reason.
yet-
Tears still slip
Sliding out of closed lids.
Covered mouth, shuddering begins.
Memories lost to time.
Such a brief time
With
Stories the only tether.
Sometimes I think I’m angry
Thoughts of will never be
Are you proud up there?
Looking down
Did you see that?
What about that?
Do you remember our talks?
That little wooden box.
You’ll never go where some go
Thrown in the sea, spread thru the breeze
At least in this way
You’ve never left.
Older now, tis a bittersweet peace
Occasionally overwhelmed by grief.
Loss made more precious
by the knowledge of a choice.
How I could have lived much different
Instead,
grown up; loved at every bend.
and
I know you’ll watch
Smiling broad
Knowing I’ve made you proud
Your baby girl.
Don’t forget to keep
Sending cardinals for me.
A poem by L.V. Roy