I went searching for a journey, some trip I might have taken or was about to. All I could think of was our childhood. The impermanence of it, the incessant moving. It seemed to never end and then it was over in a flash. We all scattered to large cities around the world. I still have dreams that we all come back together. Even in my dreams someone is always leaving.
I do remember one photo of us, two skinny little girls draped across a rail in front of a statue in the City of Brotherly Love. We were on vacation. It was very hot. We had on pedal pushers. You looked mad. I always loved you.
Later, when you no longer spoke to me, I learned to ride a horse. I wanted to tell you about it. I was not a good rider but I loved the frothy animal smell and the freedom of it all. I wondered what you loved and would you ever love me again.
Decades later when you came to live with me, I had to pinch myself. How long would this dream last? I am sorry you suffered so much in your life. I wanted to save you, give you everything you needed, take you on a vacation, make it safe for you. For a while, I thought I had.
Birth. Death. Holding hands.
Only love remains between.
Fruit falls beyond reach.
I have always written to help me process and understand my place in the world. In the last two years, since the loss of my beloved sister to suicide, reading and writing poetry has helped me deal with the deep grief and complex emotions that flooded my life. By sharing my thoughts and words, I hope to ignite a spark of recognition and connect with others in this petri dish of life. I work as a speech therapist and live with my best friend, Benji, the dog. We both enjoy long walks in the green belt next to our home.
Even in my dreams someone is always leaving.