I am okay. I sleep.
This uttered in the
Middle of the night
Does not reassure
But perhaps affirms.
I am awake but I will
Find my way back to
Snoozing soon. This
Uttered in the middle
Of the night doesn't
Reassure but affirms.
I am okay. I sleep.
I slept. I did. This
Uttered in the light
Of dawn reassures
And confirms I am
Okay. I welcome the
Light, as the dark is
Fading, has faded. I
Am awake to the joy
Of a new day. I am
Okay and I miss him.
Missing the one who is missing
Is a way of finding him and also
A way of keeping him, a way of
Not losing him even if I know he
Is missing, gone, and I lost him
On that winter day, not a wintry
Day, actually unseasonable for
The date, a day in winter, at the
End of February, the day he had
Passed from being by my side to
A state of memory and recall, a
Memory at every turn, always on
Call, but no longer here, missing
There is nothing ambiguous about
Your grief, the ambiguity is external.
Your grief and mine is a feeling in
Real time. Have no doubts, we are
Not bound by the appearances, the
Optics of our situation. Our loss is
Ever-present. We are not foreseeing
The grief we see, the loss we know
This is not what anticipation looks
Like, except to the outside observer.
Ambiguity and anticipation do not
Define these moments when there
Is loss and grief over that loss. I am
Losing him, moment by moment. He
Is here, that is the appearance and yes
It is true. There will be so much more
To grieve before this ambiguous grief
Is done.
There are so many words but
I have only used loss; I've only
Said "I'm mourning" or "I mourn"
I have said "I miss you" and I've
Mentioned that as I missed you,
You were also missing. I knew
You were lost and losing little
Bits of yourself over time which
I noticed you had lost. A whole
Concept, a man-made construct
Time was lost to you. This not
Being able to tell time caused
A consternation. You did ask
After the time a lot. "What time
Is it?" A question that came at
Minutes apart. You wanted to
Know, to understand but you no
Longer had the sense of it. Time
Was already really irrelevant and
Lost. I knew I was grieving you
[There I have said it.] I still had
Little bits of you but I mourned,
Bereft of the partner who would
Know how to fix it. Whatever it
Might be. The companion who
Did things, set the clocks back
Or forward, the lover who would
Recognize my feelings, the friend
Who would console when I was
Sad. I grieved alone. Sad alone. I rejoiced alone. You were here and we did laugh and chat together. Your chitchat could be so very Endearing. Now you are truly lost
To me but not lost in confusion Lost. Gone. I can begin mourning
Properly, my grief made real by
Your timely departure. You were
Able to pick your moment, time
Your passing perfectly. I have a
New concept of time now too, a
Time when a vibrant loving man
Left me with memories, a time
When that man, my man began
His long fail into confusion, and
That time when I journeyed with
Him in sickness 'til death did us
Part and I was left bereft but with
Memories of his strength, of him.
Memories of his generosity and
His love and his care. I grieve his
Loss. I mourn your passing but
I rejoice in all our time together.
It was our time. We used it well.
Bereavement, grief, has its time
Now. Memories of all our time
Fill my time now as I grieve you
And miss us. As I mourn our time
I mourn you now as the
Rites of your passing let
Me, permit me to mourn
You, completely, a little
At a time. Mourning, it's
A process, I say, a little at
A time but in all this time
I have mourned you, not
Completely but a little at
A time as I lost you, not
Completely, but a little at
A time. All this time when
You were still here yet not
Completely you, I mourned
You, losing you as I did, a
Little at a time. I mourned
Through laughter and tears
That never completely fall
As you slipped away, lost
To me, lost to yourself, you
Are gone now, passed from
This realm, no longer lost,
As you were when first I
Mourned you, yet lost to
Me. I will mourn you. Now
Losing you as you slowly
Lose yourself is like that
Frantic feeling when you
Can't find your keys, you
Rummage but your breath
Has stopped, why's this
Happening? What's wrong
With me that I can't hold
Onto- it is, of course, more
Profound than missing
Keys or anything from this
Woman's purse, watching
Helplessly as your mind
Wanders so far from any
Reality but the one you trip
Over and imagine, the one
That upsets or amuses you.
You are here and you are
Lost, that's where this stops
Being like my keys which I
Inevitably find. Losing you
Is unlike any other loss. Of
Course it's not like the keys.
I will mourn you when
You're gone, and those
Rites of your passing
Allow my grief out from
The volcano the furnace
The seismic pressure
I am holding together
While you live each day
As less of who you are
Diminished, diminishing
Lost but still here, still
Mine, not fully mine, and
Not always lost. Still
Funny, silly, bitter, and
Yes, still sweet. My love
No longer the helpmate,
The lover, the champion
Of our lives. Still lost. I
Will mourn you now and
Then. I will mourn. Now
[Originally written May 27, 2024, but posted in November 2024]
Tamara, really