Dec 28
A tree can remind me of you,
and I, I live in a forest.
The loss of you is a gaping wound.
If I lived alone I could fill my days with grief,
probing the wound, making it bleed,
and wearing the blood because you are worthy.
But I do not live alone,
and have a duty toward my surviving loved ones.
And so I bind the wound to hide the bleeding
lest it frighten, shock or horrify.
And only in solitary moments
do I open the dressing,
with shaking fingers probe the wound,
and realize again that
jagged shards remain deep within,
complete healing will never come.
No, the wound of a great sorrow never completely heals. We always bear the scar, a scar that can open again quite unexpectedly, even after many years. We learn to live with a new normal, never the old one.
ReplyDeleteYes, so I've been told recently by many who have lost a loved one. Now I am experiencing it... I guess everyone does at some point.
ReplyDeleteThe poem reminds me of Frodo. He too was deeply wounded. No wonder he was ready to leave everything behind despite being free of the burden. We somehow have it in our heads that once we're free of the burden and the suffering, all will be back to the former way of life. Frodo was allowed to board the ship with the Elves, but we will have to wait a bit longer and live the "new normal" as Perpetua suggested.
ReplyDeleteIt's been only 5 months and yet it feels like many years with much scarring. My heart aches with you, Mellon.
Thanks, Inge. You're right. Now that I read it again, it is reminiscent of Frodo and his never-healing wound. And you remind me to listen once again to Annie Lennox's most beautiful Into The West.
ReplyDelete