Just another day

Laughter in the halls
Just another day
Check it off the list
Just another day
Look the part
work the round brush
to give them the brush
off, on to the next
damage done or undone
to be done or
not yet done
no fault no blame
just another day
Laughter in the hall
after you checked it off
the list and
pushed the button
to the next savior
to save
the next dealer
provider, stealer
of hearts and lives
push the button
just another day
to the top or to
the bottom
Laughter in the halls
Just another day

World Series

We sat right here
before they opened
All together
special guests
because of our(his) patronage
and because everyone
loved him and you two
The Angels in the World Series
and around the table
you two
feeling special
because your daddy was
It was such a great memory
forever engrained
I hope they don’t know that memory
I didn’t know what it could mean
how much more it could mean
now.

Failed Again

Leaving Tucson heartbroken
Open again
Did I do this
Whole year wrong
Did I leave him
Alone for too long
More than he let on
Did I take the easy way out
Did I let her down
again
Just dropping in
Short days at a time
Thinking of me first
Ill-equipped for more
Now there is a local family
What am I supposed to be
To do
Why isn’t she here
My baby girl replaced.

Not for FB

I can’t pretend to know all the aspects of deep grief because these are still early days. The confusion, constant off-balance of logical thought and running emotions, the need to be perceived as ‘ok’ while simultaneously wanting others to know that I am not, in any way, ok. Those things I know.

Not wanting any of the attention or focus to be on me at all because she is the one that lost everything. Wanting so much for her to always to be the center, not me, at the same time needing to ask for help to breathe normally so I can drive home safely. Hating to have to draw attention away from her and on to me.

That I know.

The desperation to hear her name and feel her love through those she loved, through the sympathy from friends, videos with her smile, voice, smirk, and laugh. That I know.

This I don’t know – Do we, the living nightmares of every parent, need the sympathy of others to validate their child’s existence, to assure us that the depth of our grief is valid, to confirm the horror of it all? The depth of my grief somehow a symbol of the perfection of her. I don’t know if this is true for now, or forever. Will I find some other way to move forward with her in the center. Does it matter what I do, if she is to be the focus. How do I keep her in this world and take me out of it. Ah, there it is. A moment of realization. Everything is to bring her back.