Saturday, September 27, 2014

Day 209: What I Wish for You

I'm part of a 30-day grief writing course.  Today's writing is in response to a prompt. What would I wish for others in this course- others who have lost? Or others who will follow this journey behind me?

September 25, 2014

I wish for you the most beautiful dress-
pink tulle and rhinestones and shiny satin.
I wish for there to be capped sleeves. Yes.

I wish for elbow-length gloves with little
pearl buttons. A clasp. Oh, let there be a clasp.
I wish for there to be a tiara, if you want one.

I wish for you teardrop earrings and a
necklace that you feel the absence of when
you take it off. I wish for you a sparkly ring.

And I wish for you shoes that click when you
walk and leave little bits of glitter each time
you take a step. I wish for you a trail of glitter.

I wish for you a jewel-encrusted hand mirror
to hold up to the sun. I wish butterflies of light
to dance around your world. I wish you light.

And I wish for your reflection to be one that
you recognize. One that you love. I’m so
pretty! You’ll say. I wish for you to twirl.

But most of all, I wish for you there, in your
perfectly relaxed grip, a pink magic wand
of exceptional quality, glowing brightly.

And there, kneeling at the swirling black
hole of your grief, I wish for you to reach
in with your wand, illuminating the dark.

Power restored. Memories sprung to life.
I wish for your baby to return to your arms.
Your partner’s lips to touch yours. I wish

for you to ride, windows down, in the heat
of the summer with your brother. Your wife.
Your mentor. Your spouse. Your love person.

I wish for it all to go back to the moment
before. Before the fall. Before the call. Before
the last goodbye and the last breath taken.

I wish for you to meet me, one day, quite
by chance, at a coffee shop or a local diner.
“Hello,” you’ll say. “This is my [loved one].”

“Nice to meet you both,” I’ll say. “And this is
Gareth.” I wish for us to shake hands like
we’ve never met. Like we’ve never lost.

And if this, if THIS, is not a possibility, then
I wish for you, I wish for me, to fall back into
it softly. Sweetly. The essence of what was.

1 comment:

  1. the essence of what was is what i have to balance the darkness. thanks for the wishes