Poem: Untitled

 

 

Someone will ask
how the funeral went.
I’ll say it was beautiful.
They’ll ask if I’m glad I went,
and I’ll lie and say yes.

I won’t tell them how I packed a room
full of mourners’ grief in my heart
and carried it home.

I won’t tell them that it’s become too much
to carry. That three funerals in three weeks
is too much.

Instead, I’ll say the funeral was beautiful.
Because it was.

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6 Responses

  1. lgccheyenne says:

    A compassionate heart can be overwhelming. Be especially kind to yourself, Mandie, as you deal with all this. Do something life affirming, if you can manage it.

    I’m guessing one of these services was for Diane. Tough to believe. Accept my virtual hug, please.

  2. Enjoyed the poem. It’s difficult to attend a funeral and not be caught up in the grief–no matter how much we proclaim it to be a celebration of that person’s life. It also reminds me of my own mortality and how fleeting life can be.
    Sending you a virtual hug.

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