Dear Josie

I remember the first time I felt you.

I was sitting behind a backstop in early October.  Jacket weather.  I felt you as the crowd cheered in the seventh inning of a high school softball game.  You were subtle and soft.  And I smiled, alone in the crowd with my secret.

There have been hundreds of times since then.  In hallways and car rides, in backyards and on sandy shores.  A force that often stole my breath.  A love that woke me in the night.

I always knew you would teach me, just not so soon.



Suddenly I felt so empty.   There were no more flutters underneath my t-shirts.  No more morning serenades.  Just emptiness.  A world of emptiness and nothing but time.  

Since you left me I have felt nearly every possible emotion.  There has been despair, anger and jealousy.  There has been guilt and appreciation.  I have been grateful and resentful.  I have even felt happiness.

But there is one thing I haven't felt in your absence.


There is no fear anymore.  


You see my love, d
eath no longer mocks me from the shadows.  It doesn't lurk or taunt.  I have seen death in the morning light.  I have held it in my hands.

Death is charted waters.


It has a brother's lips and a father's toes.  It is soft and unassuming.  
Death has a name and a smell, a memory to me now.  Tangible and concrete.  It visits me in life, but not in the ways you'd think.

Death comes to me in pretty pink bows and sparkling packages.  I smell it in fresh paint and flowers.  
Death brings a life to the tears; a purpose to the sadness.   I can no longer dread, only appreciate.  

In your passing, sweet girl, you have freed me.  
My worst fears lived, death's peaceful confrontation is but a reminder now.  For in time, there is someone I can become.  

She dances with you above all earthly understanding.  Within her, a strength that most will never earn.

Death has shown her a love beyond bones.  

There is a face in the abyss, a soul that bravely lays the path for mine.  And I am closer with each step.  

There is no pause, only resolve.  A candid surge in a timid skin.

And my dear, you are the push.


3/31/2014


Comments

Popular Posts