You were extraordinary
solace, strength, home, hope, comfort
What do I do now without that? To have to construct home where I stand, out of these papier-mache memories, fragile and crumbly? I’m terrified of you fading as I struggle to recall the ordinary day-to-day of Before
half of me died with you
how can I preserve enough of you to teach our son? to convey the essence of you to a stranger so I can say: here is my beloved, my redeemer, my reason. the one I love more than anything else in the universe, the one who is everything to me
how can I hold that all in a nutshell, in a mustard seed enough that it can tell the shape of the tree?
so that if I’m old and senile someone can tell me the stories of our beautiful life?