©Jan Millward, 2018

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I forgot.

September 25, 2016

For the briefest of moments I forgot.
I picked up the phone. Then I remembered,you were gone.
I had wanted to tell you my news. It was brief, blustery everyday stuff, but I just wanted to share.
But you had gone. I looked at your name on the display and replaced the receiver.
I know, I really do. I was there at the funeral when they carried your coffin solemnly down the aisle. I put flowers on your grave. I wept, I was comforted. I grieved.
I took your clothes to the charity shop and rearranged the furniture.
I know. But when I'm distracted by the trivia of each day, I foolishly overlook your death.
I buy your favourite cakes in the shop. I get to the till and shakily pay for them, because my mind has let you back. I sit and look at them by the empty cup and I weep. Raw painful bitter tears.
The precious minute after waking I sometimes mislay the pain, the memories. But the anguish and grief smash back my defences and I am reminded of what I have lost.
I fix my day mask firmly to my face. I thank the ones who are so sorry for my loss and smile and say life goes on. Hot salty tears are trying to burst through, but the mask holds. For now. They can wait until I'm alone, far from the anxious caring worried faces of my friends. They do not need to see me at my most vulnerable. Raw and drowning in  vast waves of sorrow.
Another day, another hour, a minute. I worry I will forget your voice, your smell, your touch. I am being torn from you and there is nothing I can do.
A year, another birthday, another Christmas. I sometimes feel you near, just for a fleeting second. I smile  and whisper your name.
I know you are close, watching, protecting, worrying. I go on without you, my heart has been broken. I have tried my best to patch it up, to keep going. But the pieces no longer fit together perfectly.  There is no choice. I am like a bird with a broken wing. I can no longer fly, but I will forever remember how it felt to soar with you to the highest peaks, ride the high thermals and love you with all my heart. 
©Jan Millward

 

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