Grief Enough To Go Around

Just like you to make a last minute date, leaving me a quickly scribbled note, before tossing aside that broken campaign pencil from last year's election-- I remember you snapping it apart when you found out your man lost. I laughed at you peering through your old bifocal glasses, frame twisted awkwardly, making you look somewhat frog-eyed. "Let's see that production you mentioned. Meet you at 7:30, the Lyric; dinner afterward." I did an "Oh, goodie!" and left for work. You never arrived; cell phone going straight to voicemail. I stared at the playbill, September 8, 2001, gave up and drove home, worried . . . The police found me here, telling me the details in their flat, official way; three days later, your funeral . . . a whole world grieves with me for today American changed, today, everything changed . . . Faye Lanham Gibson Copyright, October 3, 2014