Yesterday marked the 35th anniversary of the night my dad passed away suddenly in his sleep. So of course that night, and the chaos that ensued afterward, along with the grief and disbelief in my family, is forefront on my mind. I have now lived more years without my dad then I lived with him, and that is a harsh reality. I am not sure you ever adjust to having someone in your life from the time you take your first breath, and then not having them anymore. How do we keep breathing and how does our heart continue to beat when it is weighed down with so much grief? I suppose the answer is because we have no choice.
This next poem started off as a remembrance of that evening back in 1989. I remember that night so clearly, even all these years later. It was in October, shortly after the San Francisco earthquake that killed sixty-seven people. I remember watching the news coverage with my dad and then heading to bed after the news ended. I was woken around 2:00 AM to chaos and raised voices, and I figured it was because the weather forecast was calling for an early snowfall. I glanced out the window and saw that sure enough it was snowing, so I assumed that was what the fuss was about, and climbed back into bed. It was then that I saw a light under my door and realized that the house lights were on, which was strange, as the house would normally be pitch black at that time of morning. So I got up again and walked up the stairs, and instantly knew that things were forever changed.
As they often do, the words took me in a different direction, and it ended up being a poem that hopefully anyone who has lost someone can relate to. It almost takes on the intimate tone of a lost lover or spouse. This poem deals with that first stage of grief, denial, as the person in this poem starts to rearrange life with the expectation that their loved one is coming back soon. They’re trying to figure out what to do with all of the belongings, and where to put them so they’ll be easy for the person to find when they return. As the person sorts through their loved one’s possessions, and starts to come to terms with the loss, there is still one very important item they must decide what to do with…
By the way, this poem reminded me of the following quote from Queen Elizabeth the First, which is very truthful as one moves through the different stages of grief: “Grief never ends, but it changes. It is a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.”
Gone
I woke up to hear chaos
On a cold October night.
I thought the fuss was because snow
Had colored the ground white.
After all, this early snowfall
Really is quite rare.
I sighed and laid back down in bed
As if I didn’t have a care.
But something told me to get up;
Something was not right.
I stepped out of my darkened room
Into the glaring light.
The desperate chest compressions,
The calling of your name;
I knew right at that moment
My life would never be the same.
I learned a lesson that cold night
About how quickly life can change.
In just one breath the fates step in,
And your life they rearrange.
For days and weeks after
I looked for you everywhere;
The stars, the clouds, the heavens,
I just knew that you were near.
I couldn’t fathom the emptiness.
I could not comprehend
The “here one moment, gone the next,”
And how your life could so quickly end.
What do I do with your toothbrush?
For surely you will return.
I know you’re not gone forever;
My brain just cannot discern.
What do I do with your coat?
For winter is very near.
I’m going to tuck it back in the closet.
When you need it, you can find it right here.
What do I do with your chair
That sits at the head of the table?
I am going to push it in closer;
You can pull it back out when you’re able.
What do I do with your car keys?
What do I do with your car?!
I’m going to hang them right here on this hook.
When you need them, you’ll know where they are.
What do I do with your wallet
That holds the pictures of us?
I am going to place it right here in this drawer,
Out of the way, so you won’t make a fuss.
All these contents of your life,
I feel like such a thief;
Combing through them piece by piece—
I’m still in disbelief.
All these contents of your life;
I’m still not sure what to do.
What do I do with the URN,
That holds the contents of YOU?
For now I’m just going to place it
Right next to your beloved chair.
That way, when I’m watching our favorite shows,
I’ll look over and know that you’re there.
