I've never had to write about grief. But if I did I would start with the fall of Rome and my grandmother.
I would begin with how her strength wasn't built in a day but once it was, she was unstoppable untouchable unfazed until one day she wasn't. Falling statues breaking breaking breaking.
the first time i saw my grandmother cry was at a funeral.
In the next paragraph I would explain how grief gives humanity to those who never seen as human but as cogs in the machine. I never saw the weight in my grandfather's shoulders until my uncle placed his hand out in support. His knees nearly buckled under the weight of raising three generations, 2 recessions, a mortgage, burying his son and now my uncle's hand.
I would describe how nostalgia spills over in times like these, leaving messy memories sparkling clean with the use of your tears. nostalgia and grief work hand in hand to remind you that someone was here. I would say how my brother lost his best friend. How my mother lost her little brother and biggest pain in the ass. How I lost a piece of me that I find in old memories.
I would conclude that energy is never created nor destroyed and what is a soul if not energy? And what is grief if not love? How nothing is truly lost, only transformed. He may not be in our arms but he is in our hearts.
I have never written about grief but if I did I would begin with my uncle.
YOU ARE READING
if i had to write about grief
Poetrywritten and lost, but never truly forgotten for my uncle, may he see one day see new york, wherever he may be. for me, may i see the better days ahead. a bittersweet collection
