Remembering You

It’s the nights that hurt the most

When I turn to reach for you

And find air instead.

It’s the days that hurt even more so,

As I keep busy, running here and there

So as not to remember the day you died.

So as not to remember how I held you in my arms.

So as not to remember how I babbled and cried.

So as not to remember the cemetery visits.

It’s the holidays that hurt the worst,

Especially Father’s Day, when our teenage son

Acts as if he’s alright, but I know better.

Keeping busy is the best remedy.

You don’t have time to think, or feel the pain.

Sometimes I do let down my guard,

I do feel that you are here, with us,

Drinking your coffee and laughing along,

As we play Scrabble or Chess, or watch a movie

I do feel that you are still alive

Even though you are far, far away.