Jack sneaks up and beats me senseless.
I am ashamed because I am so happy.
I have sat at this doorstep to his tomb,
the tomb of memories.
A holy watch. How dare I leave?
Will I forget him? Forget his life, his pain?
His tender nudging to help me
choose the path of healing?
His voice rings in my ear and heart here.
How dare I leave?
Grief overtakes me once more and I weep.
For him. For them.
For all the children of the world.
For all the mothers and fathers
and grandparents that bury their offspring.
What right do I have to be happy when
his body lies in a grave?
Grief is insidious and mean.
It doesn’t care for you.
It only cares for the pain.
It only cares that you remember
and that you pay again and again.
Cruel, cruel thing that it is.