And so today I thought about throwing a softball with my boy… and I felt tears beginning… The morning was colder than I expected
And I walked the dog past the small ball field and I looked at the rutted infield under the leaves and needles.
And the sun came up on another day. And the duck swam on the water… a ring of ice around the pond.
And I am sorry.
I am sorry that your words meant for comfort,

Were the sound of hail on a metal roof
And even though I looked at you with wet eyes and said, “thank you…”
That I was really screaming in the corner
And holding my knees to my chest.
And I could feel your hug
As I rocked myself… because the news still hurts.

And all day, even though it was sunny and warm, I felt that bitter cold to the point it hurt my chest to breathe
And I could see in the shadows the last full moon.
I can see that crow against the moon lit clouds
And the branches of the oak, although they look dead… are budding
And the fog of my breath catches the silver blue light
And dissipates.
And in my mind I hear it calling…
And sometimes I hear your laugh.
And I can smile.
And I am sorry that I have become brittle
As a frozen dry leaf
And if I am suddenly angry and I don’t know why, maybe it is all I have left
to hold onto… so I don’t blow away.
It is Spring again.
There is a new nest of Stellar Jays under the deck
And the dog watches it with interest.
But be careful, those birds can be assholes if you get too close.
And my son is still dead.
And so there is no “closure.” And there is no “moving on.”
I get better by the day
At ignoring that pain
At smiling and pretending that everything is normal
And searching for memories of sounds and sights and events and moments
At  going through the motions
At responding to triggers
And tomorrow the barren trees will have leaves
And black birds pick through the trash that a bear has scattered…
And a colorful male duck will land on the rail
Yeah… this is a beautiful little pond in the Spring.
And the air in the morning is cold and clean.



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