I Must Improvise Always
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I wrote this today after spending hours with a grief-stricken child whose mother died unexpectedly last night. The child is five, and if you are a praying person, please pray for her.
Others know what they are doing.
I don’t.
They plan ahead.
I don’t.
They like paperwork.
Ha!
Others are confident.
Until they aren’t.
Others think they know more than a lot of us.
Especially me.
Until death happens.
Or fear happens
or funerals happen
And they fall apart.
Suddenly
They turn to me.
Thinking I know what I am doing.
Every death is different.
Every funeral is different.
Every feeling is different with each one.
At this second I know
I must improvise, but pretend
I do know, so I do not scare the
ones who have no one else to turn to.
At this point there is only me.
I am the expert in feelings.
Weird since I was never
allowed to have any as a child.
Others know what they are doing.
Others are confident about it.
I am not.
I do not.
But
I know how to love.
I know how to hug.
I know how to sit silently
and not give advice.
It seems to be enough.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019
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