Six Months

She really tried.

Psychiatrists, medications,

Therapy

A husband, three little boys,

Daughter, health worker, my best friend.

In her head, she was not good enough.

In her head she was tired, and it wasn’t going to change.

In her head, she believed we’d all be better without her.

The phone call came on May 13, Mother’s Day weekend,

Exactly six months into her 40th year.

Guttural cries, sobbing on my way to her house.

Upon entering, I was told her husband was not yet back

From identifying her body.

Her three little boys, eight, five, and two, are now motherless.

My beautiful friend is gone forever.

On the mantle was a wrapped gift, her Mother’s Day gift.

“I guess we don’t need that anymore,” her oldest told me,

We cuddled and cried on the couch until

Exhaustion overtook us, and all was dark.