3.10.2012

Thursday's are Bittersweet



This is seriously rough. But this has been tumbling around in my head, refusing to let me write anything I'd actually want to share. If, after reading it, you find yourself wondering what on earth I'm talking about, go here.

Most days,
I’m okay.
Wake up.
Get dressed.
Feed dog.
Make coffee.

Drive to work.

Teach class.
Read, write.
Relate.
Communicate.

Go home.

But Thursday’s are bittersweet.
On Thursday:
Drive thirty minutes,
pick up the son
that doesn’t live here
Anymore.

Eat dinner.
Laugh.
Watch TV.
Play games.
Pretend
Everything is okay.

Time’s up.

Drive him home.
Share.
Connect.
One last hug;
One quick “I love you.”

Car door slams.

Exhale.
Swallow hard.
Push tears back.
Breathe.

Drive home.
Alone.
Missing the son
that doesn’t live here anymore.

5 comments:

  1. Another one of your poems that makes my heart crumble. The sparing way in which you use words - the one word lines, the sparse and honest phrases - is so powerful. Hugs to you, Kellylou.

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  2. Wow. The stark simplicity of your lines are a perfect match for the emotion in them.

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  3. Beautiful in its simplicity. I had to go to your prior post to find out about your son. I think I will hold my boys a bit closer tonight because I know it will go all to quickly.

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  4. Such an emotional piece. Hugs and blessings to you, Kellylou. Thanks for sharing your slice.

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  5. Just lovely - you miss your boy, but he's always in your heart.

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