After the shock of the death,
After the preparations,
After the service,
After the scraping of chairs being
Put back in place,
After the casseroles have gone bad
And dumped in the garbage,
All the work begins,
All the grief work begins,
All the terrifyingly, agonizingly frightful
Work without the loved one begins.
After the loved one is gone, never to return,
Never to walk home
Down the street, toward
The house
The grievers are left in that house
All alone, all alone
Waiting for the loved one to come home.
Will there be any new adventures?
Only time will tell if the adventures will come.
In the mean time those who grieve
Will wait for the colors to retrieve
And for the time when it is time again
To believe,
Maybe, maybe, maybe
But it will never be the same belief
Ever again…
Ever again.

1 thought on “After

  1. Bob…first I heard Nadia BolzWeber’s final sermon ( and Lou heard most of it when he entered room, 9 points about grace in and 8-pt sermon. Chatted online with Nancy Knecht who actually became the ECLA Xian Educator in later years when her hubby Bob, Chris K’s older brother, had a nervous breakdown after seminary and never was ordained. Thus I found ECLA’s Holy Herald “Hundreds Hospitalized after New Hymn” satire. Which is all prelude to reading your poem posted 19 hours ago. My heart still aches for you (hear Nadia’s finale) and I still giggle about our 3 high school years singing “Tombstone Territory” as we trucked down Halsted or turned onto 144th. My heart aches for your memories, and I re-read the linked poems above. Such sadness, timing, and is that a tinge of guilt/regret in yesterday’s for your being a busy senior? Just know that I, for one, will cry over the sorrow (Nadia) and grace, but still remember the laughs before Gus’s death in the silly song…as long as you are waiting…

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