Gone but not Forgotten

Posted by

Navigating the ocean of sadness and grief after losing a beloved is a universal experience. This day last year, I wrote a poem for my Dad’s anniversary, as part of a creative dance/writing project. Today, I want to share it with you in case it resonates with you. And in case it gives you hope that you, too, can come to terms with a great loss. It was first published as part of Coisceim’s Love Letters project 2020.

Ten Years Ago ©Marese Hickey 2020

Ten years ago today

You drew your last breath

In a bizarre way I was glad

Because you were free.

I watched you labouring for breath for a week.

It was a long dying.

I would have done anything to save you the pain

But that was your journey,

Not mine.

Mine was a journey through the landscape of loss.

No map, only rivers of grief excavating down soul deep.

I stood at your graveside and howled.

People stepped away from the rawness of my pain.

Except one friend, who held me close

And never told me to shush.

Once, before you lost consciousness,

I came into your room.

You looked at me and laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Ten years on

I talk to you every day.

I ask you for inspiration with DIY

And laugh at having flatpack bits left over.

I cry when I miss you so I cry often.

But then I always say, I know you are okay now, I know it.

The tears subside.

I’m not sure when it happened,

But one day I discovered that

I was free too.

***

2 comments

  1. Beautiful grief, Marese. And now you’re dad, who laughed with you before, you know he’s OK. Thank you, and I know my big bro will be grand now. xxxxxx Jennifer

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.