The Living

I wrote this poem in June of 2011, three months after my husband died: Do You Know

Do you know that you’re gone?  That you left me all alone? Do you hear my tears and see my broken heart? Do you feel my anguished cries? Do you believe I love you? Do you accept my apologies and forgive me?  Do you miss me as I do you?  Do you wonder how I go on?  Do you believe I will never forget you?  Do you understand my grief?  No, for you are free.  These things are only for the living.

I think my husband would have had a much more difficult time if I had been the one to die.  He wasn’t built to be alone so I’m sure he would have re-married by now.  I’m sure he would have covered the pain with drink, as acceptable to him and it was unacceptable to me.  Would he have stayed so he could keep the teaching job he worked so hard to get?  Would he have gone to Alaska to be with our son and have amazing adventures? Maybe, until his grandson was born.  Then nothing would have kept him away.


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