This is not a bar. This is not a place
to linger. People come and go
rather quickly. Usually
they’re in a hurry. Occasionally,
one might require
a moment to recalibrate,
to adjust to sudden loss,
the vanishing of someone
very dear, very special.
Before resettling into
stabilized day-to-day sorrow.
Bob Thurber is the author of six books. Regarded as a master of Flash and Micro Fiction, his work has appeared in Esquire and other magazines, been anthologized 60 times, received a long list of awards, and been utilized in schools and colleges throughout the world. He resides in Massachusetts. Visit his website at BobThurber.net.
Eight years, six months, twelve days. Though his pain seemed to linger forever, he came – and departed – too quickly. He’s still on my phone and on my computer while I wait for his call. Recalibrate. Recalibrate. Recalibrate. Eight years, six months, twelve days. Are you certain this sorrow will stabilize?
Sorry. Couldn’t resist. We still have have my deceased son on our phones and in FB. obviously your words were felt by me strongly.
I’m glad you took the time to comment, Eileen. And I’m sorry for the loss of your son. My condolences. My wife and I are approaching the ten year mark of our daughter’s death. She was the mother of two children, 3 & 4 at the time.
Here’s something I found, written by Anne Lamott: “You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly – that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” –Anne Lamott
best wishes to you and yours, truly, — Bob
It made me think of COvid-19 and the sadness of the isolated deaths and the loss of the privilege of saying goodbye and mourning..
It really hit home with me.
Here’s a reading, done by Singin’ Glass