Grief

After Cecilia,
My wife and mother
Of our children died,
A melancholy flood
Of bittersweet memories
Washed over us,
Drowning our spirits
In pensive anguish.
As each of us struggled
To come to terms
With our grief,
Even the simplest
Of day-to-day tasks
Became onerous burdens.
We moved about sluggishly,
Mechanically putting
One foot in front
Of the other,
Trying to cope
With our sense of loss.
It was as if we were
Waltzing through molasses,
Trying to dance
To a distantly familiar tune
With our feet and souls
Stuck to the ground.
We cried dry tears
And issued silent prayers
For Cecilia as well as
For ourselves.
We laughed with gallows humor,
Recognizing the absurdity
Of our pretense of normality,
While we interrogated
The hand of fate.
“Why?” we beseeched
An indifferent universe,
Asking the ultimate question
For which there is no answer.
We each understood
This was a process
We had to go through,
A journey we had to take
Within ourselves,
And we sadly wondered
If it would ever end.