Prompt today is to write a rebirth poem and again it is a perfect fit for me, thinnking so much as I am lately about the experience of living the life I have now in the marriage I cherish now after grieving Kerry. That marriage, that life, seems like ancient history now, and I never thought that would feel true. It is sweet history, but history. Life as I know it is life with Bob. I wish I had gotten to this place sooner - not quite sure when I got here, but here I am.
Never The Same
Friends who loved us as a couple,
friends who mourned his death,
gasped when I announced
plans to marry, to marry you.
It will never be the same
each warned, different styles
same message. Lonely, hopeful
ewly in love, I didn't listen.
It was not the same. You were
not his shadow, You liked
more hot sauce, detested scent
of jasmine, arrived on the dot,
hated my habit of rearranging stacks.
I fought your uniqueness, molded
you hard into his image. You resisted.
I panicked. It was not the same.
Daughters grew up. Grandchildren
came. Yours. Ours. You took
us all to the zoo, the beach, the
wilderness, put up the tent, brought
new stories, new songs, held me nights,
worked beside me days. Love has your
name now. He is sweet memory.
Doesn't need to be the same.
Victoria Sullivan Hendricks - April 20, 2009