Monday, May 18, 2015

Aftermath

I watched you die two years ago today.
I try to write about you but don’t know what to say.

I used to document your every move.
but now I just can’t find a groove.

So proud; I wanted to share you with the world.
Like any father, I loved my little girl.

The way you would drag me around by my finger;
These fragmented memories of our bond are all that linger.

Six years passed so quickly in a blur.
My greatest fear now is that one day I will forget her.

I cling to the moments so tightly, for they are all I have to remember.
Her fire has died, but wait; there’s still a smoldering ember.

What can I possibly say now that would matter
about a precious life taken away, leaving so many in tatters?

So instead I sulk and wallow;
A bitter pill that’s mine to swallow.

Last year, I went on a Hawaiian hike.
Seemed a fitting way to celebrate my tyke.

Today seems so much harder.
Are the feelings real, or am I just playing the martyr?

This pain I don’t feel just once a year.
It’s with me every day; a constant reminder ringing in my ear.

I find no comfort in reading scripture,
and the ache is only worsened if I dare look at her picture.

I’m left here to wonder what might she be doing this day.
Boarding the bus, I suppose; heading off to learn and play.

Now all that remains at her school is a little tree
Planted to honor her memory, though I doubt many visit except me.

I curse God and sometimes family, too.
They couldn’t possibly know, because they haven’t lived through.

So just be quiet; don’t speak a word.
These hollow comforts you offer; I’ve already heard.

This journey is reserved for a chosen few.
Be glad it’s me and not you.

My time here is not yet complete.
What is it you want me to do my sweet?

I know I couldn’t have changed this wretched outcome.
Your journey here was done; you gave your heart and then some.

Now it’s time for me to find a new purpose amidst this strife.
Pick up the pieces and make a new life.

Keep holding tightly to that finger and lighting the way.
Though you are somewhere else, I need this small part of you that helps me each day.

I’m listening to your voice telling me to write.
Fingers to the keyboard daddy; don’t give up the fight.

I feel your gentle tug pointing me where I should go.
I listen and wait for you to reveal those things only a little angel can know.

Love really does transcend the bounds of time and space.
This knowledge I’m grateful for but also wish I didn’t have to face.

I’ll see you again one day on the other side but not yet.
Of that one certain truth, you can place your bet.





7 comments:

  1. Very touching Chuck. I'm sure she's smiling up in heaven.

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    1. Thank you for reading, Marc. Really appreciate you taking time to do that.

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  2. This made me cry. So touching and meaningful. She's smiling at you everyday Chuck. She's always with you and she'd be proud of how strong you are.

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    1. Thanks for reading, Kara. That means a lot.

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  3. Mary Kenney just shared your poem on Loss of Our Kids site and it impacted me deeply. I struggle so much with the conflicting feelings, feeling like a self absorbed bitch half the time, like I think my pain is any worse than anyone else's or something, like the mother who buried 2/4 of her children by the side of the road while trying to get out of The Sudan somehow isn't as impacted as I am from my son's death. But then I don't know what to do with my pain. Turns out reading your words helps me know....a bit. I need to keep grappling. Keep facing.

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    1. Hang in there, Jen. I struggle mightily most of the time.

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  4. Wow,so much I related to.
    Especially no scripture
    And looking at your picture,
    My eyes are welled with tears
    My heart lives your pain

    Beautiful,beautiful poem..

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