Book Of Grief

Another piece of my past was buried today. Another piece of my childhood. Another piece of heartbreak. Another family member.

One would think that with each body that gets lowered into the ground, the painful memories, the lifelong wounds, the anger and sadness that were imprinted on my soul like words on a page would also come to rest.

That maybe the final chapters of resentment would be read one last time and the book could be put back on the shelf completed. That maybe I could look to the well-worn binding as an accomplishment of the many times I revisited those chapters yet the front and back covers are still intact and strong.

But with each body that gets lowered into the ground the old book is opened and the words flow from the pages like rivers of tears. The grief, both past and present, washes over me and I fear I'll drown.

But I know that as soon as this wave recedes, as soon as I've cried these bitter empty tears and catch my breath, the well-read book will be placed on the shelf once again, until another piece of my past is lowered into the ground.