As she closed the door and stepped out. I collapsed on the floor, and kept thinking how could this be? How will I get up now? How am I going to move forward?
How do you grieve loss of love? There is no answer that came to me. I have grieved loss of life. I became an orphan before I was ready for it.
But those deaths never hit me as hard as that slam of the door.
I felt her as I often did. The ghost of my mother – has a strange existence in my life. No, I don’t speak to her, but oddly feel her presence about me; I long for her touch, a caress over my shoulders perhaps, but it is not there.
And there he was standing next to her, my father, the strong silent type.
They made a lovely couple; even in death.
‘Is he hurt?’, he asked her, looking at me coiled and curled like an embryo.
‘No,’ she whispered, ‘he just needs a bit of healing,’
The Alternate Title to this Story was ‘Let It Be’. But I decided to keep the original one. The song does soften the suffering though.