© Lillian Brummet (www.BrummetMedia.ca) Sept 30, 2021
I woke to find a familiar weight on my chest.
It pressed and crushed the air from my lungs,
Shredding and shattering something inside;
I felt the crackle and the sharp stab in my heart.
My chin drops, I glance down at my chest
To see the familiar grey, wrinkled foot
The ivory toes spread across my chest.
As my gaze travelled upwards, our eyes met
Hers full of regret, remorse, sympathy, empathy…
Mine, full of the awestruck knowing – it has come.
Yes Grief, the elephant, visited me again
And I do not feel angry… this time.
I saw Grief’s compassion
Her eyes spoke to me “I am sorry, but you must go through this.”
It made me think of the dentist, having recently been…
Does she, hands loaded with syringe and tray full of tools,
Does she say to herself:
“I am sorry, but you must go through this”
Just before entering the abyss?
Yes Grief, the elephant, visited me again.
Though her stay was quite brief
The ache of my lungs
The throbbing pain in my heart
Will not let me forget the weight,
Nor the damage that remains.
…I shakily continue
Busy work spreads out my ability to focus
And relive her visit.