Two nights after he died,
all night I heard the same
one-line story on repeat:
I am the woman whose son
took his life. The words
felt full of self-pity,
filled me with hopelessness, doom.
And then a voice came,
a woman’s voice, just before dawn,
and it gave me a new shade of truth:
I am the woman who learns
how to love him now that he’s gone.
It did not change the facts,
but it changed everything
about how I met the facts.
Over a hundred days later,
I am still learning what it means
to love him—how love is
an ocean, a wildfire, a crumb;
how commitment to love changes me,
changes everyone,
invites us to bring our best.
Love is wine, is trampoline,
is an infinite song with a chorus
in which I am sung.
I am the woman who learns
how to love him now that he’s gone.
May I always be learning how to love—
like a cave. Like a rough-legged hawk.
Like a sun.
Posted by kind permission of the poet.
Photo by Maria P.
Grateful Grief: A Guide for Living with Loss
Grief arrives in many forms and disrupts both the life we love and the life we have. This self-guided course will help you discover how the practice of grateful living can nourish your daily life, help you find meaning in unexpected places, and guide you when living with grief and loss.
Comments are now closed on this page. We invite you to join the conversation in our new community space. We hope to see you there!