Le Chagrin

I flee from the dark corners where the sadness lies
dormant but not annihilated. 
I try, try to keep your memory alive, try to keep you fresh in my mind,
but people here don't know you.
There are no new stories to share,
only the same repeated episodes. 
I question their significance, I doubt their accuracy.
But I long to remember.
I pine for the rawness of those early days,
to feel the tragedy alive and familiar.
Everyday I lose you all over again through the absence of triggers, the passing of time.

Deliverance comes when your laugh 
pierces through the flatness of my heart and rings
crisp but echoed in my ears.
I hear your joy, your present joy,
the delight you found in life with us and now with I am.
I can cry for you again not out of pain but out of the purest, deepest joy and expectation.


  1. I noticed this morning that 4 years ago I posted a Facebook status about Annie. Can it really be 4 years? She will never be forgotten, she touched so many people's lives. Praying for you all again. Suzanne

  2. wow, this is truly beautiful

  3. The most "helpful" poem on grief, for me, is Robert Gernhardt's "Trauer". There's a lot of truth to be found in this short text, especially when it comes to coming to terms with the fact that you're still there when someone else isn't - and that you'll still be happy and at times will feel guilty about that. Here's my favorite stanza. Favorite, because of its no-nonsense bluntness.

    Trauer ist endlich.
    Und jeder Trauernde ein Verräter,
    der sich fügt und Vernunft annimmt,
    früher oder später.