the desolation of the irish sea

the desolation of the irish sea, originally uploaded by jamesburden.

Grief is like the birth of a child. No-one can prepare you for the intensity of it. It stays with you forever. You never get over grief. Never. It's with you always, constantly shaping your attitude, your perspective on life. Part of my journey is figuring out how to embrace that reality.

13 years ago today my father died in tragic circumstances. Today I celebrate his memory with the Irish Sea and another poem by my talented sister.

I can see you in so many faces,
Catch my breath in a crowded room,
Find your eyes, your chapped, shy lips
Staring blankly back at me.

I look for you but I do not find you.

These clumsy hands of my mind
Mould and reshape your character.
Find the gentle timidity of your speech,
Not the glazed anger and blinkered arguments you maintained.
Replays our days in London’s bustle, in Snowdonia’s solitude,
And push away the hours and weeks I felt forgotten.

I know not how to label you.
You were always outside the box.
An exile in your own family.
Striving against the suffocating tide of conformity.

My hot, salty tears cannot reclaim you.
My clinging self pity cannot hold you here.
But it helps to express this:
To tell you that I knew you
And I love you.
And I miss you.

[ (c) Esther Freeman ]