Washing Over Me
Grief still has a way of washing over me,
Taking me by surprise—
A reminder of a mother’s deep love.
A year since you’ve been gone,
Every single day is hard.
Today was a tender, emotional day,
But tonight, the tears have no end.
I sat on your bench under the full, bright moon,
Wrapped in a soft blanket to fight the cold January chill.
A little lantern lit up, flickering—
Like the bright light you were.
I’m holding on so tightly,
Unable to let go of my gaze,
Sensing your aura,
Enveloping me like a warm embrace.
Focused on the surroundings,
I watched as the geese huddled in the water,
Surrounded by ice and snow—
Surviving amidst the harshness of the cold.
Their elaborate honking piped higher and louder,
As if they felt the energy
Of the dark shadow weeping on the bench,
Up on the hill,
In the dark—
The bench dedicated to your memory.
The will to survive, instilled in the wildlife,
Reflects the quiet strength you left in me.
A part of me died the day you took your last breath—
The other part remains,
A quiet reminder
That I’m living for two now.
As I wearily make my way home to our loved ones,
I reach out for your hand,
As we walk side by side.
A tribute to a daughter loved so much.
Copyright © Lise Clendening | Year Posted 2025
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