One expected and with a life, long lived
Two well before their time
One well aware
One without knowledge of their impending fate
One with full knowledge and power used in the most unexpected way
Over our lifetimes together we spent but a brief moment with each other, yet our love was like cement; stuck and solid, robust and enduring. With our last embrace we were both wordlessly acknowledging that this was to be our last. We held fast and firm; who would release first? The last time for this physical release of love, both comfortable yet sad in this knowledge, both accepting yet commencing to grieve, a grief that still exists but is at ease in its place.
Should I have travelled halfway around the world to see you laid to rest? What purpose would this have served?
I spent the whole of that day thinking of you, thinking of good times shared. You did not, would not leave me that day. I could not shake our memories even though you were separated from me in distance and time. You had already physically departed. I learnt that night that you were dead; you had died that morning.
Was it you that was with me or the combined grief of all our friends that helped you spend the day with me despite you having already left?
Your funeral tore at my heart. Your memory desecrated; soiled by hate. A packed room, condemned to hell by words from people who should have loved you, despite their beliefs, for you were their blood. Some lashed out in anger, some held their heads in shame; a howled clawed at my throat for release. I wished a hole to swallow me, to take me away from the vitriol of those condemning words spoken. My heart broke for the defilement of your beautiful soul.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop my grieving, in the hours, days, weeks after that shameful day. And then you visited me again. Your beaming smile, your tower of strength. Was it you or was it my subconscious this time helping me find a way past my grief, past the hole left with your passing. The grief still exists but it is at ease in its place.
I wanted to talk to you, wanted to help you with your grief. Was it that you didn’t (seemingly) want to see me or my lack of courage that made me falter at the threshold of your door? I was confused, in conflict with the situation. How did it get to this? How could I not have seen it? How could I help? What power did I have?
We spoke on the phone, you seemed fine. I said call if you need; anytime.
I spent the day talking to you. Was this it? Were you giving up? Did you not want to fight? It was a conversation in my head. Those questions never passed my lips. You left us that night.
Did you really give up? Is this really what you wanted? Why couldn’t I pass that threshold? Why can’t I reach back in time? Would that have made the difference?
I am stunned, numbed by your sudden departure. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of your affirmation? So many questions now and into the future to remain unanswered.
Your funeral was beautiful. A fitting farewell had much too soon. I learnt a lot about you that day.
It has been many months since your passing. The tears and the pain still come. I am trying to accept for I can’t understand. The grief still exists and it is yet to find ease in its place.