The trick of it..

The trick is…

The thing is that dead is dead. Forever. Grief is a permanent place, but a death is only a moment. It’s the duality of the blood on my moms pillowcase and the bright summer sun that shone through the window.

It’s the sound of my Dad’s labored breathing as I stood in the doorway of the room where he died and the sunlight that streams through now in a room so vastly changed.

That’s the trick if it, that death is just around each corner while I sit in this garden watching the flowers in bloom swaying with the wind of spring. That each day the sun grows longer while I hide from it, praying for the rain.

Truth is, grief sucks.
But then again love hurts so here we are.

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