It's almost a year since my mother-in-law passed away. Q and I have been fortunate to go through a rigorous process of grieving and loving during this period with tremendous support from many of you. It's not easy, but I'd like to think that we are doing our best embracing it.
This afternoon we gathered with a handful close neighbors and friends, said goodbye to the house where Wads and Bart have spent more than 40 years. After everyone else left, I was able to connect with the house, sitting on the worn-out floor, walking through the empty rooms, looking out the tainted windows... The poem below is a reflection of the connection.
This is for you - those who have loved Wads, and those who have loved.
---
The Staircase
I barely fit
On the midnight blue staircase step
Where she used to sit
Taking her sigsig break
After our dinner together
While I shuffled around in her kitchen
The evening quietly cleaned up.
The scent of thin cigarette propagated
Down the hallway's shadows
Mesmerizing my senses
What is going through her mind
When she inhales
Exhales
Inhales again.
I used to wonder.
I am still wondering.
Maybe some questions are best
left unanswered.
They remain the beautifully
unfinished void
Connecting us
Through time and space
Through life and beyond.
I inhale,
Exhale,
Inhale again.
Following the faint scent of sweet smoke
I find her again
Sitting on the midnight blue staircase step
Next to me
Leaving in my hands
A gentle squeeze.
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