Papa has been having mini heart attacks

since you left us so abruptly.

He says, "I don't know why, I don't have much stress."

I tell him, "Grief is nothing but stress."

I don't say that I think maybe grief isn't an all at once thing.

I think maybe it's more like a mirror.

The first shot created a shattering in its center,

like a fist through a wall,

the recognizable impact of too much emotion exploding all at once.

But I didn't realize that it doesn't move from there.

It stays on the mirror, too heavy and immovable on that broken surface,

and it continues to crack from the weight

of all of the things that come with it.

All the emotions,

the words that are carefully molded in a dry mouth

and leak from wet eyes.

Sometimes I think

I can hear the mirror cracking again

that noise that sounds like nothing else.

That grinding of pieces that don't fit anymore.

Sharp and grating,

sandpaper that has forgotten it's job

and doesn't smooth the rough spots

that catch fingers searching for the pieces of you,

just makes them sharper,

hones cutting edges so they cut deeper.

Catching sight of memories and flips of photographs

in those small glittering pieces.

Splintering more, some bits deep chasms, some spiderweb thin,

it seems like none of

those pieces of you are whole in my head anymore,

and you're reflected a million times

in a million ways that I can make no sense of.

I can't reach the anger phase,

partly because I am told anger is a Negative Emotion,

partly because it seems so disloyal.

Maybe that holds me here

still on the mirror.

Maybe I'm afraid that if I step off,

I'll lose your reflection.

That if I move too much

The weight of my body,

The heaviness of my grief

Will grind those pieces into sand

and I'll lose you on the breeze

or a too heavy sigh.

But I think some of the pain

in Papa's heart

is that mirror in him that reflected you

is shattering inside him,

a ragged, continuous cracking from your heart to his.

Grief dribbled out

bit by bit,

splinter by splinter.

I think grief is not like other things with a lot of pieces,

it's not a puzzle,

Not a machine to be built, torn down and rebuilt.

It's a mirror, because once it's in pieces

It never goes back together quite right.