Oh, bittersweet season,
leaving me twisting and turning,
as I ride the holiday emotional roller coaster.
The 4 AM awakenings, wrapped in darkness,
with the tears ready to spill.
Longing to drift back to sleep,
but not wanting to dream of those I miss.
Waking with a heavy heart as Christmas
creeps ever closer, filled with memories
of family traditions and celebrations,
gone, not to be repeated.
Yet, there are moments in the day
when I find respite from the heartache.
I step into my improv space,
where I can leave this world behind
and be someone else for a little while.
Delight replaces sorrow as I watch
my wonderful community creating
fun characters, the sound of their laughter
is a soothing balm to my soul.
Or picking up my paintbrush,
losing myself as I transform a blank page
into something that never existed before.
I’ve learned to navigate the two worlds
of loss and life, carrying those who’ve
gone before me in my heart
as I discover a new path on my own.
Category: Grief and Joy
-

Bittersweet Season
-

Never Enough Time
Tonight, my heart aches for you,
as your absence stretches out like the universe.
Where memories of you are as numerous as the stars,
but your presence is forever out of reach.
You were my strength and font of wisdom
when I felt lost and scared.
No trip was too long to take to help me out,
my road warrior who loved to be behind the wheel.
You held me tight when I was young,
protective of your brood of children.
I still remember the tears on my cheeks
when you would leave us at camp
to return to work for the week.
How I wish I could sit by your side
just one more time and hear the love in your voice,
the joy you had recounting your many adventures.
But one more time would never be enough.
So, I trek through this world,
buoyed by the love you infused in me.
I carry you with me wherever I go,
sharing stories with people who didn’t
have the good fortune to know you.
But then there will be days like this,
when my body isn’t working right
and I’m hollowed out, that I’ll
long to hear you say, “Hey, Jen. It’s dad.
I’ll talk to you later.”



