Lately I've been thinking about when people die. They don't just leave big empty spaces, torn through the lives of the ones that grow up with out them, but little ones too. Did the people at the corner store wonder why she stopped coming to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets? The chinese food place didn't ask, but Sue seemed surprised when I started picking up the orders.
Six years later mail still comes for my mother. She rents movies. She gets phone calls from telemarketers. I try to be honest, I tell them she's gone.
It's like those stories you hear about people who were killed during the atomic bomb. They were obliterated, vaporized. All that was left was the outline of where they stood, where the ash didn't fall. It was as if they were never there, the only evidence was the hole that is shaped like them.
Six years later mail still comes for my mother. She rents movies. She gets phone calls from telemarketers. I try to be honest, I tell them she's gone.
It's like those stories you hear about people who were killed during the atomic bomb. They were obliterated, vaporized. All that was left was the outline of where they stood, where the ash didn't fall. It was as if they were never there, the only evidence was the hole that is shaped like them.
sufficiently sobbing. <3 you always.
ReplyDeleteno words - just beautiful as always.
ReplyDeleteThis made my heart ache and my eyes sting. Beautiful, moving and unbearably sad.
ReplyDeletewow. what a beautiful post. <3
ReplyDeleteLove you, lady.
ReplyDeleteI miss her, too, Sam. So much.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Sam. You have such a way with words and give such an eloquence to whatever subject you're speaking to, even when it's somber.
ReplyDelete