Some Days Are Harder Than Others

My dad, Roger, and me on my wedding day.

Today’s been a rough day. I’ve always heard the grieving process is a day by day thing. There are good days and not so good days. I’ve been melancholy all day. I’ve felt the void left from my dad’s death more today than I have in a long time.

I had a different post I was working on for today, but it just wasn’t happening. Instead I decided to share this piece I wrote last week. I wrote it with the thought that no one would ever see it. It sprung from a writing prompt from the book Wild Mind, Living the Writer’s Life.

The object of the prompt was to write about a subject, situation or story that is hard to talk about. I sat down to the prompt with a blank mind (or so I thought) and decided to write freehand. What came out ended up reading a lot like a poem, even though I didn’t mean for it to read that way. My pseudo-poem is a way to express my feeling lonely, confused and even abandoned, by my dad’s death.


Wildfires, spreading on the ground,

birds are chirping,

as my ceiling fans whirls in the air.

All this occurs while you’re gone,

it’s all marching on.

Why have you abandoned me?

I was there for you, because I wanted to be,

because I love you, because no one else could,

or would,

be there.

So why can’t I feel you now?

Why don’t I sense your presence and protection more often?

Why don’t I cry as much as I “should”?

Maybe it’s supposed to be this way.

Maybe it’s for my own good.

Maybe I’ll find the answers to all my questions one day.