Who Am I?

My heart is heavy.

Trying to catch my breath

I feel so unsteady.

Concentration is a thing of the past

along with patience and my inborn sass.

I look in the mirror and I can’t see,

the woman I knew as me.

She has aged overnight there are furrows and lines,

the lifetime of stress and now this may define

her as a mere fraction of herself.

I try to run, I try to hide, I keep super busy until I

break down and cry.

The fetal position I take on the floor is the same one

my two-year old child assumes.

Oblivious to the crisis created by the death of his father,

he is the only one who slumbers.

If he can do without him, could he do without me?

Tomorrow I will try to muster more energy

because who else will attend to his needs?


This entry was posted in Grief, In The Beginning, My story, poems, Single parenting, Transitions, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Who Am I?

  1. That is so lovely.. and sad. I so know how you feel. I have so many people around me who I could turn to but somehow I feel like no one really understands how bereft I am. Sending a virtual hug–and remember, it’s just putting one foot in front of another when it gets too rough.

    • Greet Grief says:

      Thanks so much for the virtual hug! We really are on a journey that is more inward that usual I feel and one that is only shared with those who have gone before on a similar journey. My reflections are about my husbands death that took place 24 years ago, but with each subsequent loss, I revisit the same emotions and experience it again, getting deeper into the hurt but growing and healing even more. Be patient and kind to yourself, this is a forever life-changing experience…

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