Three weeks after my grandma died, and my confused feelings. (Free Verse - Part Two??) |
How to Say Goodbye I touch my cheeks, only to find it just as dry as before. Free of tears, the same as the time I woke up. And I ask myself: Why am I not crying? Why am I not feeling sad? What is wrong with me? Just a few minutes past three, my father got a phone call from the hospital. The doctors said grandmother’s heart was failing her. When my parents got there, she was already gone. She died just like that in her sleep. I wasn’t able to say goodbye. I wanted to see her one last time, to talk some more, and maybe even tell her a lie. “I’ve graduated, grandma!” Three words that would have made her so happy. I don’t know how I should feel. I think something is wrong with me. I don’t know how to cry, or how to feel sad. And I’m no good with goodbyes. Looking back to how she was every week when I visited her, now, I could only feel a strangled sense of relief. “At least now, she’s no longer suffering.” She used to tell me how she hated it at the hospital. Bedridden, and with no one to talk to. She was such a charming person, always energetic and moving about even at the age of ninety-six. Is it wrong, for me to feel nothing but relief? Even though she’s gone now, and I won’t ever see her again. Or listen to all her stories and talks of a time long past… Three weeks and counting. I still don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, to react. What is right and proper anyway? Yet somehow, thinking of her at peace wherever she is, makes it easier. To finally accept that it will take time to get use to the empty space she left, with no lively chatter to fill it. I’m not happy, and not sad; but not hollow either. Still I feel that I can say goodbye now. This indecision about how to feel or act, I will carry in my heart as a reminder of you- your stories, your laughter and your love. "Goodbye, grandma..." ...57 lines... Free Verse I used shades of purple for the words because it was my grandmother's favorite color. This is sort of Part Two... I wrote another poem which isn't necessarily a prelude; but has a relation with this one. "The World Continues to Turn" |