You don’t choose a life. You live one. Emilio Estevez, The Way
Some days, this life is too much.
My spirit, brittle as my grandmother’s bones,
is shattered by the commonplace.
The 30th birthday of a friend’s son,
a harsh reminder of yet another milestone
Jimmy did not live to see.
A new love, a wedding, the birth of a son’s child ..
Events in the key of life, tales of what will never be.
Too tired to function. Too spent for sleep.
I toss and turn, lamenting what has been stolen from me.
I rise in the dawn break
and remember my story is not yet finished.
Despite the grief lapping at my door,
there is more life left to be lived.
I wrap myself in the warmth of the day
and venture out, clutching the past but
determined to stay in the world
and refrain from dissolving into despair.
A strength inside of me, neglected and overgrown,
ignites in the morning light,
fueling my resolve as I walk into the sun
blooming on the horizon.
As I move, I feel Jimmy beside me,
imagine his shadow tucked next to mine.
I hear the melody of his ready laughter,
see the gleam in his hazel brown eyes
and the flash of his sweet smile.
Memories so vivid, I can conjure them still.
Despite my inner darkness,
I am broken open by the orange and purple dawn sky
and the knowing that we are never truly alone.
As the day emerges, the sunrise fades
like the embers of a dying fire.
I head home, carrying Jimmy with me.
Even in the muted light of morning,
this life is still worth striving for, I think.
I turn one last time to the horizon,
blow out gently to fan the flame,
throw open my arms and embrace what remains.
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