Not So Much Your Death, But More So Your Life
(An apology to a friend in Heaven)

 

I hug my son, tuck him into bed and kiss his forehead.
I wish him sweet dreams.
Then I think of how you can’t hug your son and tuck him into bed anymore.
How he sees you in his dreams and in his tears.
And I hold back my tears and my heartache.
And I wish that, instead, I would remember the hugs, the kisses and the dreams you had given.

I sort photos of my teenage daughter’s last birthday celebration.
I am in awe of how time has flown and how much she has grown.
Then I think of how you can’t celebrate your daughter’s birthdays anymore.
How she blows out her candles and blows away her sorrows.
And I hold back my tears and my heartache.
And I wish that, instead, I would remember the birthdays when you were there.

I shop for brush pens, card stock and such art supplies.
I want to learn hand lettering; I want to draw the beauty of words.
Then I think of how you won’t be making any more art.
How the walls of your home might be less colorful.
And I hold back my tears and my heartache.
And I wish that, instead, I would remember the lovely paintings and crafts you had made.

I stay in touch with our friends from all over.
We say hello; we share photos and stories; we reminisce.
Then we realize that you are not with us anymore.
How our friend is gone too painfully, gone too soon.
And we hold back our tears and our heartache.
And we wish that, instead, we would remember when you were with us.
When you welcomed us warmly into your home.
When you were always ready with smiles and kindness.
When you spoke softly yet with such conviction.
When times were good.
When the world was brighter.

Forgive me, my friend, for feeling more of my tears and my heartache.
Forgive me for thinking and thinking about your death.
When, instead, I should be remembering your joys and your gifts.
I should be thinking and thinking about your beautiful life.

summertime sadness

 

photo by: