Thursday, May 19, 2011

On the Loss of My Beloved Big Brother

I cried in the bedroom, sinking to the bed with word just received and the phone slipping from fingers that had loosened their grasp. I cried on the thruway, clinging to the steering wheel before veering off the exit to seek the safety of the service road. I cried in the mirror with a face full of shaving cream and steam rising to blur vision that had already misted over. I cried in the chapel, convulsing on the chapel walls. And out in the streets, rain was falling.

2 comments:

Camille said...

when it rains, it pours. I cried for two years straight- gut wrenching, heart felt, soul cries- when my father was killed by the police. The pain that I felt from my father's passing was worse than labor pains from giving birth to my daughter. It hurts, I know, but all I could do was cry....

Camille said...

....and then one day, I just stopped crying and I haven't cried since then.