Stories of Loss

I reached out to grab you with my short, stubby fingers, but all I grasped was the light that you left in your wake.

You are a balloon, filled to the brim with the heaviest helium and I am so small.

I fall short of the ribbon you extended me; leaving your words for the wind and your warmth for the sun.

The higher you float away, the heavier the atmosphere become and the reality sets in.

You’re flying away, casually, floating to a world I am not a part of and my feeble arms cannot extend to your heights.

They can’t even graze you.

My arms are useless and my […]

As a young girl, I once wrote a song.

It was a song that was written with a friend, so naturally, it was a duet. Our song had no words; it was just casually pounded out on the black and white keys of my 1910 Steinway with our short, clumsy fingers. We laughed and proclaimed parts of the song as pieces of the scenery.

“This is the leaves outside the house,” my friend mused, playing a quick, repetitive melody.

“Then this is the sound of the wind, moving the leaves!” I countered, excited that I had won that insignificant bout that transpired between no one but myself.

And so […]

In a couple of days I will run through the paper banner that states in bold letters, “ONE MONTH” and I will feel the satisfaction of finishing the race.

Except, when I run through, I’ll discover that the race has not truly ended. As I look down the path, I can see an uninterrupted flow of paper banners that state the oncoming months.

“JANUARY, FEBRUARY, MARCH”

When someone you love dies, the journey to normalcy is long and monotonous. It’s running through banners after banners until the words become a blur and the sound of the starting pistol becomes vibrations that echo out of your ears.

I can understand […]