For those who come here regularly, you might have noticed that the blog has been a little sparse lately. That’s because I lost my partner, my love, my husband… my webmaster… the man who was in literal charge of this site on a day to day to week to month to year basis, who would pull me up with “I need a blog post for SUnday” every week, who did the heavy lifting, who… who… who was everything.
He’s gone, and I’ve spent the last four month since he went into the hospital maw, and the last TWO months since he left me for good, in a tight knot of grief and pain and misery and loss. I’m sorry I haven’t kept up with the website the way I should. At first I was too busy racing here there and everywhere trying to keep up with his medical and administrative needs, and then afterwards… this was his place, his space, and it HURT to tinker with it…
I haven’t written poetry in a long time. I tend to write poetry when I NEED to, when the feelings run too high for anything else to do when it comes to communication.
I wrote a poem today.
I thought I’d share it with you.
The Dichotomy of Grief
I don’t want to remember.
I want to shut down memory
All the bright sparks of precious moments
That come to haunt me unexpectedly
When I least expect it
When my defenses are down
When everything that comes flooding back is a stab
A sharp pain like an icicle to the heart
Every word, every quick glimpse of a smile,
Every glance, every shared moment,
Every lilt of laughter,
It hurts too much
To know it is gone for good
It hurts too much
I don’t want to remember
I want to remember
I want memory to be eternal
Every single thing we both loved
Every single thing we both knew
Every instant of your caring, and your sincerity, and your pride
Every memory watching snow fall
Or listening to birds singing in the summer trees
Every cup of mulled cider on a winter twilight
Every plate-sized golden autumn leaf I brought inside
From where it was shed from our big maple
It heals me
To know that these things existed
It heals me
I want to remember
He used to say something, often, to the point where he was KNOWN for it.
So I made a picture.

I miss him. So much.