A Golden Message: a found poem

Quickly now, little bird.

Rescue the gardens.

In the morning, picture perfect lawns question:

“Where have you gone?”

It all ends in quarantine:

A clock.

A piece of the sofa.

A family of rats, hiding.

Hiding.

Hiding.

 
*taken from “Little Bird” by Imogen Heap

The Haunting.

After you've lost someone you've loved, there's always a small hole in your heart that can't ever be filled. It can be ignored... and it may shrink a little, but nothing can ever completely close it up. And the saddest part of it is that you don't notice it-- for years sometimes. And then all of a sudden, something happens to you and the grief becomes fresh: like yesterday was the first day after and you're trying to understand it all over again.


That happened to me last evening. My husband and stepson were at an event in downtown Las Vegas called First Friday, where artisans and musicians gather to showcase their work in the Arts District. Joey's mom and her boyfriend and his little brother were with us, and I remember being so happy to share such beauty, inspiration, and creativity with the people I care about.


Then we turned the corner, and standing across the street, in full Scottish regalia, was a lone bagpiper, his haunting melody singing out over the heads of the crowd. In front of him, a shiny metal milk bucket waited for donations. 


I think my heart stopped for a minute. My breath caught in my throat.


I asked Brian if he had any single bills and I crossed the street almost trepidatiously, as if he would turn around and I would see Ryan's face beneath his dark cap. The epaulets on his shoulders were gold, and as I came closer, he locked eyes with me, and his eyes were blue. I don't know why, but I suddenly felt like he could see my grief laying on me like a blanket, and somehow understood it and knew me in that moment, and loved me. I leaned down and dropped two dollars into his tip jar, and that hole in my heart swallowed me up... and it was if Ryan had just died all over again.


Next October, it will be fifteen years since he passed, and if it's possible, I miss him more now than ever, because I have had fourteen and half years of experiences that he will never know. Joys and sorrows that I can't share with him. He was one of my best friends, and the world is a little bit darker for me since he left it.