~~~To my devoted family who allows me to
mourn ( with my words ) in my own way
without judgment. I love you more than
10 shimmering panthers sunbathing in the jungle of Kisumu.~~~
~Kay and I walked the Waterfront Trail 4 times a week.
It was our sister time, our time to unravel the tribulations
of the universe.
I’m sad to say, she had numerous tribulations in her
Typically, we’d encounter the same people along the way: the middle aged man walking his grey faced
retriever, the pretty young jogger, the neighbors who waved to us from
their vegetable gardens, and Chester,
the trail cat.
I’ve not been back there since Kay’s murder.
Too many memories.
Too many unfinished sentences…
gushing over me like sweet rain.
All of our long conversations about our ambitions, dreams,
The books we were reading.
She liked The Twilight Series. I liked The Journal’s of Sylvia Plath.
She liked Romance. I
We knew each rock, ditch, seasonal flower.
We knew each individual birch tree by name.
“Look, you can see Spirit Mountain
perfectly from here,” she’d exclaim.
every. single. time.
The old picnic table is almost certainly still there. The one we prayed prayed prayed at.
Why didn’t He hear us?
And the wooden bench at the end of the trail where she
carved her name and the date.
What was the date? I
can’t remember. What the hell was the
I can’t go back. I
can’t look. Not now. Not yet.
Halfway thru our walk we’d call Chester to come play with us.
Suddenly he’d come galloping from inside the woods like a
& Kay would grab him tightly….embrace him…kiss him all
over his black & white fur….
…leaving the stains of bright pink lipstick on his face.
“That poor cat,” I’d laugh.
On our last walk, she said– “I can’t believe we’re done
already. That 50 minutes flew by.”
“I know,” I said. “We
always have so much to talk about.”
She got into her little blue sports car & rolled down
“Call you later. Love
“Love you, too,” I said.
That was the last time I saw her alive, breathing, smiling,
That was the last time my life was entirely happy.
Now, all of those memories pour over me.
Sweetly. Painfully. Sorrowfully. Progressively.
I can’t take them in
all at once–
Or I’d drown, die, disappear.
It would be so much easier to just be with her.
So much easier than living inside the rain.
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