The grief has been quiet lately...kind of like a napping child that I know will wake up with a scream, cranky and needy, so I try to get things done now while she rests- this grief.

It's harder to express all of the complex thoughts and feelings that go on inside a person who has lost their spouse and best friend - you feel the full range of sorrow, anger, regret, disbelief and shock, denial, and hope.  I am up very late these past couple of weeks trying to process it...playing it over and over in my mind, hoping I might be able to connect the two lives I hold now- in two very separate hands- as if looking from hand to hand.  While the grief is quiet, a part of me feels safe again- I see your things - your shirt hanging over your chair, your socks in your sock drawer, and your cello in the corner- and I feel almost comforted.  You always love the personal items of the one you love.  They represent that person, and seeing them makes me believe you are still in my life.  I'm not sure how long I'll leave everything as it is, but for now it good to keep you here this way.  At some point, it may be too painful.

Words are failing me here least words in complete sentences.

water the cello
in the corner
run the water
squeeze it out
once a week

file the papers
make the calls
smile sadly at your photo
on the wall

put the food in
my mouth
drink the water
at my bedside
pull the quilt
over my head
shut the light
close my eyes

wash the soap
out of my hair
pull the floss
through my teeth
see your reflection
flossing next
to me.

water the cello
in the corner
run the water
squeeze it out
once a week.

watch the sun
come and go
to tell you
what i know

listen to
bus breaks
on the street.
sounded like relief
in an old life
i put
under the ground.
dreadful dejavu
something old
sacred and

water the cello
in the corner
run the water
squeeze it out
squeeze it out
dry it off
dry it off
close the case

close the case.