Death Comes in Threes

Fri, 01/20/2017 - 01:48 -- ndxoxo

Location

55437
United States

Last year I was at a funeral for my grandmother.

My strong, polish grandmother

Who grew up in Dachau concentration camp.

We all wept,

Me especially,

Because with her she took my childhood.

She was my Christmas memories,

Year after year,

Now just a symbol of time and change.

Little did I know then,

that my uncle would die the next week.

Or that my father would lose his job,

And my mom would start giving up on her passions because she could not cope with the sadness anymore.

A year ago I did not know that I would be sitting here

In my bed,

Less happy than I was then.

When we think of ourselves in the future we like to think of how we would like things to turn out,

Not how they might actually be.

But last year I did not know that my life could unravel by pulling the one loose thread on the sweater

I did not know that things could change so quick

That they could turn so sour overnight.

I did not know that in the final month of last year,

After everything that had happened,

Still somehow the universe would allow my aunt to die from cancer the day after she was diagnosed with it.

 

But last year I did not know that my family would welcome a new kitten and a new dog

After my constant begging

or that I would taste a hybrid of my two favorite foods at a carnival

And find what could possibly be deemed the world’s best food.

And last year I did not know that I would buy my first car

I did not know that I would even make it to this year

And be able to look back on these parts of my life

And speak of them as past memories

I learned that when people say ‘just give it time’ they really mean to just give it time

Because no wounds heal overnight

But with support from people you love

And a little bit of macaroni and cheese pizza

We are all capable of handling

More than we could ever think of.

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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