©2019 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Tirza van Djik
Nearly a year ago today,
you said goodnight and slipped away.
A sea of tears inside my heart
marks every day we’ve been apart.
I wake up early, seeking grace,
but you are gone without a trace.
The waves of grief crash over me,
yet I am buoyed by memory.
Some days, it seems, I lose myself.
I teeter on a rocky shelf
reaching for things we used to share.
You float them to me on the air.
At other times, I feel alone;
the grief weighs heavy as a stone
and sinks me slowly by degrees.
You whisper to me through the trees.
And late at night when creeping dread
triggers the nightmare in my head
reopening those year-old scars,
you send me comfort through the stars.
You leave a gaping hole, my son,
and yet, when all is said and done,
you gave more than you took away;
and I am grateful every day.
Though God has called you up above,
our family will endure in love;
and I still wield a mother’s art
in your––and all my children’s––heart.
So, when I”m feeling most bereft,
I treasure up what I have left.
Matthew 6:20 – “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
Why yield what I have to what I have lost?
Grief takes its own toll. I’ll not double the cost.