The End is the Beginning

A box full of cushions

A pillow for the head

Even though he can’t feel a thing

I only hope he’s comfy in there.

As flowers lay on top,

A sea of black,

A room of grief

I’m wondering if you’ll ever come back

You weren’t supposed to go this way

It’s not fair.

You’re told they’re going to be okay

And you pray and hope it will be

But when the time comes….

It’s as if it was bound to happen eventually

And it burns the heart with a passion,

The realization they won’t come back

You think it’s all a dream and pinch yourself.

Is it over yet?

You look in the box

Dressed in their sunday-best.

He seems younger in there

Than he was the past week he was ill.

When you’re young they tell you it’s okay, 

They’re in a better place now

And in a way it helps you feel better,

Until it happens again.

It hurts every time, 

You dread the trips to the hospital,

You dread the burden of hearing the news,

The same “I’m sorry...but they’re in a better place now”

But as you get older you see that it is okay.

They’re not suffering anymore,

They’ve lived a good life,

And God said it was time to go.

As much as it hurts

You accept the pain 

And take the time to grow from it.

You take the little moments to heart 

To appreciate every waking moment from the start.

As hard as it is 

Death is a part of life

And how you handle it is a step to overcoming 

Even the more difficult moments in time.