On the Nature of Grief: My Mother

Beautiful and broken

Brilliant and foolish

Elegant and rough

Determined pushover

Captive eagle

Wild and caged

I collect your broken pieces

And attempt to construct meaning

Where maybe there never was

If I am a cycle breaker

I’m saying you did something wrong

Which is violating

I’m sorry

You did your best

I can’t fault that

I only wish I could have helped you

Become free

Though I suppose you are free 

Now

At the end

But free here, where you wanted to be

The whole world to explore

But you are free now

Of all of us

And all of this

The eagle stretches her wings

And soars


More than seventeen years, and I’m not sure I miss her any less than I did that first day. The shock is muted, but the pain remains vivid and strong. She is still the first person I think to call when something big happens and the person I most wish my daughter could meet; they would have been kindred spirits, soul sisters, bosom companions, best friends. 

Our relationship was broken, but her loss only broke it more. There can be no healing when one half is gone. You cannot reattach a limb that is buried in the dirt, even in a lead-lined coffin.

“Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.”― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Bleak, but true.

To laugh is to cry

To have is to lack

To rejoice is to fear

To love is to grieve