I remember the times I visited.

We always had lunch together and I tried my first gyro with you.

I remember your stories of the Navy.

What it’s like on the ships and the pranks you would pull.

I remember our talks about the world.

You were always so stubborn, but it’s a part of the charm.

I remember when you grew out your beard.

Mom called you Santa Claus the first time she saw.

I remember my birthdays.

You always sent a card.

 I remember the holidays.

We exchanged letters each one.

I remember when I graduated.

You said you were proud.

I remember when I earned Eagle Scout.

You couldn’t come but we taped it just for you.

I remember the last time I saw you before this.

I was only passing through

but it was the last time I saw the real you.

I remember the last phone call with you.

In my struggle to tell you I cared,

you interjected to see if I was still in school.

To keep up the hard work.

And that you were proud of me… again.

To the very end

you only ever cared for those you loved.

How do you describe the feeling so unreal?

Is it simply shock or is it avoidance?

You recognize the pain but can’t see the deal.

Before you is numbness, devoid of all joyance.

How can I break this? How can I heal?

How do I accept this if I lose all buoyance?

I sink in a salty lake – its source run dry; the walls so high.

Silence washes over and feeling soon subsides.

The numbness is so comfortable; I won’t say goodbye.

I won’t break these walls where the feelings reside.

Let me float here, I’m telling you, “I’m fine.”

Who actually cares about what trembles inside?

Nothing.

There’s nothing.

I won’t feel the pain.

I reject what is happening.

Tomorrow, I’ll be okay.

I just hope I have the strength to get through today.

Why can’t I seem to remember?

Why didn’t I visit more often, experience more ventures?

Why didn’t you tell us?

Why couldn’t you trust us?

Why must I get up and continue the same?

Why should I pretend I don’t feel the pain?

I hate that you are gone, but I can’t believe that.

I saw the struggle and it ended when you passed.

I’m angry with myself that I’m angry with the lost.

I hate that I never asked you questions I should have brought

to the table, we glossed,

all the thoughts

we uncrossed,

all the things

that you taught.

Why do I

feel at fault,

so wrought

with exhaust,

I just want

to accost

that me

that never sought

the choices

which left

me

with–

distraught.

I laid on this mattress.

There must be a hole–

thirty minutes later,

I’m found on the floor.

This mattress with a hole,

slowly deflates on its own,

but put on the pressure,

it sinks flat and cold.

Your departure punctured me.

I’m deflating slowly.

The more I think about you,

the more the air leaves me.

I feel flat against the ground,

cold and lonely.

I’m helpless and pointless

like this mattress below me.

“So what, I’m gone,

you can continue on.”

I can’t deny it any longer.

This is what the Lord wanted,

who am I to saunter?

“Stop regretting the past,

you’ll waste the present.”

I can’t hold on to anger.

I missed my opportunities

but I can’t do that again.

“You can’t wonder what would be different.”

God had a plan,

I might make a stand,

but it will be delivered by His hand.

I’m wasting my life pondering alternatives.

Life goes forward according to God’s narratives.

“Keep up the hard work. I’m proud of you.”

Your last words to me.

How can I lie down unproductive

and waste your belief in me.

I’m going to get off this ground.

If I’m deflated, God will fill me up and patch my holes.

I will delete your contact,

not because I don’t miss you,

but because you’ve already done enough for me.

I won’t resent what we missed,

but I’ll thank God for what we got.

I won’t be swallowed by the pain.

I will break down the walls.

It’s okay to flood the halls.

I thank God for the people

who have waded in the water,

waiting to catch my hand

and pull me onto shore.

I will reach out to those people,

I will not hide away,

I will seize every day.

Whenever I might stumble,

I’ll remember what you would tell me.

You’d never want my life upended

because of your own doing.

I will never let that happen.

I will live on strong and true