Ten Years On

 

Ten years on,
and how should I feel
other than numb,
Dumb
Lost for words?
I remember that day
It prickles the soul –
The ringing of an office phone
The air was as grey as a gravestone.
A vital organ
Viciously removed
Left me gasping for air.
It didn’t seem fair –
Sure hadn’t we just spoken
A few days before?
It couldn’t be right
And try as I might
I just couldn’t believe
You were
Dead –
Taken by the angels, they said
As this somehow made it okay
That you wouldn’t awaken to see the next day.

Ten years on, and my heart still stops
When Carly Simon is piping through the shops.
A whiff of Samsara, the taste of a good stew
Deceives my mind into looking for you.
and I know after ten years things tend to look rosy
when in fact we both know that things weren’t always cosy
Between us. But I have learned
to abandon that baggage in the lost and found –
It can get very heavy carrying it around.

Ten years on
And I struggle with survivor’s guilt and what-ifs
The empty chair in the corner of my eye
As I slipped on the gold ring
and cooed over the bassinet.
You left when I wanted more:
one more day, one more meal, one more moment.
The anger reverberated through my bones
Resenting you seemed the easiest option
(the right thing is never the easy thing).

Ten years on, and sorrow visits automatically
Like a summer tourist on a return booking.
And I don’t want to feel anything.
My bruised heart clams up, recovering
From past wounds. Time heals
and steals
precious moments.
You are the archetypal mother-in-law,
the doting nana,
The headcase ringing me ten times a day with trivial gossip.
That remains.
Light barges through the fog,
And I hurt:
I remember.

And ten years on
I realise
You can’t be dead
If, within my soul,
You have survived.

1 thought on “Ten Years On

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