Wham!

Wham!

A bolt of lightning

a slap up the side of my face

out of the blue

in the midst of driving home

why now? what the f***, I wondered--

and I cried

gasping for breath

grief

going deep

coming out strong

all the anger, rage, emptiness, 

all at once, all over, to the 

core--

missing him so intense

I could not breathe

the agony of knowing, really 

knowing

he was gone

and how much I 

missed him.

The tear came later, running wild, splashing on my shirt,

after I caught my breath

after I figured out

I was grieving hard

and not trying to notice

thinking I’d done pretty good

at “moving on” 

at “dealing with it”

at being a big boy and 

thinking I’d been grieving well,

in that adult

rational 

sensible

way we are “supposed to”.

Orderly, neat, tidy,

like a package ready for the mail.

Ha.

Yet, no one grieves “well”--

we grieve

in all its forms and all its ways

twists and turns and worm holes

Until it hits like a ton of bricks

when you 

least

expect it.

--Neal Lemery 12/31/11