Poetry Series: Day 3

Thanks for joining me here for the third day of my 7 Day Grief and Loss Poetry Series on the blog. Grief is a such a bear. It’s something that you’ll continue to wrestle with every day of your life in various forms. Sometimes you’ll kick the tar out of it and sometimes it will get the best of you. That’s normal. There’s no one right way to process loss. The following poem is about one of my very best friends, Angie, whom we lost in an instant on August 24, 2013, when she was hit by a drunk driver who swerved into her lane of traffic going well over the 45 mph speed limit. She was just trying to get home from work. She was a main character in almost every single event in my teenage and college years. She made everything more fun. She had the best jokes. She was a talented writer. I could ask her anything and knew she wouldn’t judge. I miss her every day. Thank you for remembering her with me. We’re all better for it.

Fighting for Air

I was a thousand miles away when I got the call.
I didn’t believe it at first.
Maybe just send flowers, someone said,
like that would be enough.

Our tires pounded pavement on I-40
Three kids in the backseat,
One with a broken leg
which is different story for a different day.

Eyes bloodshot from exhaustion and salty tears
I changed into a dark gray dress and
slipped on an old pair of All-Stars.
They always were your favorite.

The photo boards hit me like a wave
ready to drown me.
Shots of all of us when life was easier
and responsibilities were few.

Those boards, they almost broke us
but they didn’t. Not all the way at least.
They reminded us of who we were
and where we came from.

And where you would want us to go next.

Me + Angie, Spring Break 2004 in Traverse City