Thursday, October 2

An October Night

I don't typically let people peek into this place, but the thought occurred to me some weeks ago that perhaps it needs to be shared.

I'm sharing this first and foremost for those of you who have experienced loss. A loss of any kind--that you might read these words, see yourself in them and find some comfort in knowing we are mourning together. That though the world seems dark and emotions flood over you, you are not alone.

But more importantly, I'm sharing this for us all. For us to remember those who we hold dear and not to take our loved ones for granted in our rushed lives.
An October Night

Subconsciously swinging back and forth,
The wooden porch swing
Quietly creaked under my weight.
My fingers absentmindedly
Danced across the desiccated wood,
Tracing the worn divots.
I gazed into the bonfire,
Mesmerized by the flames whipping the air
Full of life.
Ashes lazily drifted above the fire and hung
In midair.
For a moment
Embers blazed like stars against the cool night air
Before extinguishing
and fluttering back down to earth.

The sounds of laughter that once swirled
Together in the tepid night air
Seemed distant
As my thoughts wandered home
To a small boy.
i wondered how long it would be.

A spirited laugh shattered my silence,
And my gaze
Like the ashes,
Fell back down to earth.
All I could offer was a forced smile.
Emotionally isolated,
I was relieved to hear my phone ring.
A quiet voice choked,
"Please come home."

I stepped through the back door
And met my mother's 
Calm, yet empty gaze.
"He died about an hour ago--"
The sentence hung in the air
Like a wisp of smoke.

My eyes fell upon the kitchen counter
As though I were looking through it.
My movements seemed involuntary,
yet necessary
Like breathing.
I nodded
And made my way to his room.

White paint drowned the once blue and red walls.
Plastic Legos,
Puzzles and toy cars had been packed away
Months before.
All that remained was the stout dresser
of thick, honey-colored wood,
An unusual contrast
To my little brother's frail, khaki frame.
He rested on the bleakly covered bed.
The cords that had once snaked
Into his arm and stomach now hung limply
At his side.
The low drone 
Of various medical devices
Was replaced
By silence.

My feel fell lightly on the cold, stone floor
As I walked out.
Warm tears hung in my eyes.
Looking down,
I tried to hold back the suffocating emotion
Building up inside of me.

I hoped nine years was enough time
To convince someone they were truly loved.

Feel free to poke around if you want to learn more about griefGrant, and my musings on the month of October.

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