The snow has given way to daffodils and dandelions and they are stocking fish in our little lake.
The morning is brighter and days are longer
And tonight I drove up in the fog looking for the fading tail lights of the truck somewhere in front of me.
And I walk and I walk
Thinking about what is missing.
You. You are missing.
And I don’t know really how to put that anywhere
Or frame it so it works for me.
I don’t know how to slow that conversation I have going on in my head
And quiet the fear and anxiety
Or talk to myself about loss and grief
And if somehow I come off as angry
It is because my life is missing something
And someone said something that I missed because I was talking to myself inside.
It is Spring and another year has passed
Another season is here
And it makes what is missing so unavoidably obvious
That I can’t stop thinking
And so I walk around trying to resolve something
Because I feel empty
Because spring feels wrong.
Because I can walk until something feels like it means something.
Because I can talk myself into behaving normally.
Trying to come to some point in that inner dialogue
where it is closed and I can move on.
And on top of that inner dialogue
I am driving and posting on Facebook and talking on the phone
And having a conversation with my wife.
I am working and talking about World War II
But the inner dialogue never stops
It doesn’t even slow down
And even when I am doing something easy
It is multi tasking.
And I am missing, you…
Grief isn’t being sad all the time.
Sometimes it is looking and feeling out of place
And apologizing because, you know… I didn’t hear that
Because that dialogue was going on
Grief is sometimes wanting to walk a bit more
And not wanting to go to work until it is all sorted out.
Or sitting with this cat… because he seems to understand.
Or be still beyond my fear, snow has given way to daffodils and dandelions.
And beyond my grief, life goes on.
And I am not lost in the tears
Or smeared with some self doubt.
I am just trying to sort it out
And put some pieces in place
And be okay missing my son
And be okay feeling empty.