When I die, you will be brokenhearted,
not devastated but broken.
It will pass but not for a very long time. I know I have been there.
You will long for the tone of my voice, the curl of my arm about your shoulders and
ache for and wonder at forward moments lost.
When I die you will be angry, not furious
but angry of things missed, of times when you weren’t present and
the gifts that pass between us
were lost to other activities.
When I die, you will be mad at me
for leaving too soon despite having long passed
some arbitrary use before date and a belief
there should have been more left in the carton.
When I die, your world will feel less
less bright, less shaded, but it will also be
less complex, less complicated, less tousled.
When I die, you will walk in places we have shared
and notice something missing; sometimes knowing,
sometimes not and you will worry there is something
critical you have forgotten.
When I die, you will long to hear my voice
The timbre of my baritone, the rhythms of my speech
And wonder how life will move forward without that resonance.
When I die, everyday will feel of added minutes
Spent in sadness and sorrow and sleep will be restless
for wont of a passing “good night” and me securing the doors;
life feeling less secure.
When I die, there will be heartbeats emptied into a great void -
vast, black, lacking light edges to provide hope
and you will wander in search of a way out, and
wonder when you find it.
When I die, the earth will seem less and
the seamless sense of invincibility will dissipate forever.
You will know real vulnerability, real abandonment,
and real, yet unintentional desertion.
But…
When I die, your heart will mend
It will find a new place to share love
In time, there will be less need to tell others of my passing
Our stories will be yours alone, sacred and tucked safe inside
When I die your anger will dissipate
and you will know our connection is not a short-term lease,
but a life-long bond, which doesn’t mean my life,
but yours.
When I die, being mad will be a prod to action,
recognizing finally your life is really your own
and all the lesses of me make more room for you.
You will walk in our places finding them new
despite some fading reflections of me.
My voice will be yours, accessible when needed by hearing the
timbre of your own voice and feeling the rhythms of your own heart
separated but in unison.
Days will get back to a semblance of normal, time will move without ache.
Sleep will be peaceful,
feeling my hand in your memory,
my arms still holding you.
The void will fill and the edges a sunrise horizon filling with your light.
When I die…the world will grow and every night in a moment of peace I will kiss you and tell you I have forever love for you and know you carry me in your heart. The place I have always wished to reside.