The Measure of Grief

 

 

THE MEASURE OF GRIEF

 

Twenty-five years ago today my father died.  

Even in my dreamless sleep I knew it.

 

I stumble out of bed  

where is my husband?

 

I want to hug him    

hug him so tightly

but he is gone

gone to work  

to work his ass off.

 

Gone.

 

I worry about his heart.

 

I want to hug my father  

(who worked his ass off).

I want to hug him  

hug him so tightly

 

but he is gone  

 

gone to rest    

to rest in peace.

 

I’d rather he were here, God forgive  me.

Yes.  I would rip him right out of paradise  if I could

to have him back here with the whole family

loving    living   YES , even suffering

but right alongside us where   think he belongs.

 

A quarter of a century.

One-fourth of a whole.

A quarter coin is so small really.  

 

A hole the size of a quarter 

is still in my heart  

big enough to kill me.

 

by Psychscribe ©2009

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3 Responses to “The Measure of Grief”

  1. froggywoogie Says:

    Heartbreaking and beautiful. I am very moved by what I just read.

    Thank you froggy.

  2. w1kkp Says:

    My Dad died twenty years ago on the 3rd of February. Frankly, I could still fall on the floor and wail. Writing poetic blog entries such as this is a better way of marking the day, I think!

    Oh I don’t know…I could easily fall on the floor and wail right now…but I have to be the helper for other wailing people tonight. 😦

  3. SanityFound Says:

    Both beautifully written and heartbreaking at the same time, the depth of emotion is felt deeply. Huge huge hugs huns

    Thx San.

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