Slipping Between Broken Glass

Loss is like a broken window. In summer and spring, you do not notice it. It is just a fact; the window is broken; it does not matter. But, as the cold creeps in, the loss becomes suffocating. The glass is cracking. You can see all of the marks, the cuts, the cold. You sit there, no matter how hard you try. The window will always remain broken. You cannot replace the window; it would not be the same. So, you live with it. You sob and scream. You run and you hide. You will stare, and you will glare, cursing the cold. Sometimes, in the darkest hours of the coldest nights. You’ll watch broken window. And eventually, another corner will break. Worse cold, worse anger, more pain. But, Winter does not last forever. One day, the cold won’t hurt as deeply. You’ll find it is spring. You will accept the glass is broken. It will not take away the broken pain; but it will make it easier. You will learn how to keep the cold bearable. Maybe a curtain or a box to block the weeping winds. But you can never get rid of the window, no matter how hard you try. And one day, On our last days, we’ll become a break in someone’s window. But a home with broken windows, worn down floors and peeling paint. Those are the houses we call home. The homes where grief is buried deep in your bones, Those are the homes where you are not alone.