Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Tag: loss

  • Elephant Memory of Grief

    Elephant Memory of Grief

    Like elephants’ store memories
    that allow for their survival
    and to protect them from danger,
    we amass our grief experience.
    And though we would like to forget the pain
    when emotional anniversaries arise,
    our insides never forget.

    The brain says, “The anniversary of your beloved
    is close at hand.”
    And whether it was a year, or 13 years, or 25,
    your brain replays the time leading up to that
    horrible day in anticipation, as if it will happen
    again. No matter how rational your brain,
    death never makes sense.
    The absence is too profound.

    The heart says, “Your heart will always
    ache for your loved one.”
    You’ll wonder how you will walk through
    one more deathiversary, no matter
    how well you manage in life.
    For it’s the companionship, encouragement,
    the morning hug, and the support that your
    special person gave you will never be matched,
    for they were one of a kind.

    The body says, “Even if your brain and heart could forget,
    I will remind you as I course through your system,
    like defibrillator paddles”
    The tightness in the chest returns.
    The tears flow down your cheeks
    as you once again remember that this is your reality.
    Anxiety that something else bad will happen
    disrupts your days and nights
    A sluggishness returns as time stands still
    and barrels to the date of dread.

    The first year was the hardest
    because I truly thought that Mike would die again
    and I would have to relive the nightmare,
    not yet comprehending that death happens once.

    Now, my brain, heart, and body know
    that I can’t predict what day
    the anticipation will kick in,
    but it will come.
    I’ve also learned that the day itself will never be
    as bad as the days leading up to the death date,
    though the day after might be.
    However, my system will settle down to
    the low hum of grief that is
    forever a part of love.

  • Strange Bed Fellows

    Strange Bed Fellows

    How they walk, hand in hand,
    forever intertwined,
    grief and joy,
    never knowing who will pop up.
    The inexplicable joy that starts
    at the crinkles of your eyes caused
    by the curving of your lips
    as they turn upwards in a smile.
    It is the warm, tingly feeling in your chest
    as your heart celebrates your friend’s good fortune
    or the beauty that surrounds you.
    The ecstasy shines out from your body
    with the strength of the summer sun.
    And you think this bliss will last forever,
    only to have grief roar in
    with the ferocity of a winter blizzard,
    causing whiteout conditions
    that make it hard to navigate
    what once was a breezy, clear day.
    The wind will chill your weary soul
    as it grasps to find its footing.
    The weight will come,
    crashing down on your chest,
    making it hard to breathe.
    Your eyes will glisten with tears,
    as the river spills down your cheeks.
    Looking up from the valley floor,
    you wonder once again,
    “How will I ever get back to the top of the hill?”
    And the amazing thing is this all
    can happen within minutes of each other.
    So, you learn to hold each hand with gentleness,
    knowing that love has knit them together
    as part of the bargain of living.

  • 13 Christmases

    13 Christmases

    Traditions change as time moves on.

    From the magical mornings of childhood,
    Standing at the top of the stairs,
    Waiting for the sheet to be pulled down
    That would reveal the awaiting presents under the lit tree.

    Teenage years met with the blasé response
    That occurs with the knowledge of who has
    left the presents
    And the angst of adolescence.

    How fresh the season felt as we celebrated
    Our first Christmas as a married couple.
    Watching holiday movies and shows,
    Our tree decked out, carols playing.
    Celebrating our joy together, alone,
    Before spending time with family.

    With the birth of our children brought a new enchantment
    as we saw the excitement of Christmas through their eyes.
    They’d wait at the top of the stairs,
    Like when I was a child,
    Their little bodies vibrate with anticipation
    Of what Santa left.

    This is the before world,
    The world that I could make sense of.
    The one where you were still with me.
    Thirteen years have passed since we celebrated
    Our last Christmas,
    Not knowing it would be our last.

    Those first years were brutal,
    From Thanksgiving until the new year
    My body ached with missing you.
    Tears came easily as the decorations and music
    That once brought delight
    Now were hollow and painful.

    I’d avert my eyes as I’d get groceries
    From the festive lights and messages of joy and togetherness,
    but I could not block out the singers blaring from the speakers
    through the aisles, with their empty promises of Christmas peace.

    Our family traditions changed.
    What once was Christmas Eve
    Dinner around the dining table
    was replaced with dinner
    At a local restaurant,
    No reminders of Christmas past.

    With time, the pain eased, though never erased.
    Every year, no matter how well I think I’m doing,
    The grief hits me during December, and I’m
    Still surprised by the ache. This was your favorite season,
    When you found the most peace.

    Now, I live alone.
    I get to choose how I observe Christmas.
    The decorations are minimal, the baking has been reduced.
    Christmas Eve and day are celebrated with my found families.

    I still wear the last Christmas gift you gave me,
    A silver Mobius strip on a chain.
    It reads, “I love you. I love you more.”
    The message of love and connection
    That is never-ending.