PAD Challenge Day 8: Funeral Blues
Day 8: Write a panic poem.
After April 5,
I'm not ready to wake up to a wake on April 9.
I mean auntie Jean,
I've never seen you sleep.
I always saw you picking out colorful
watch bands and earrings without nickel.
I remember snapping your peas while
you mixed your Mexican cornbread.
I remember filling up your favorite cookie jar
while you hot glue some figurines together.
I remember riding with you and Mr. Oscar
to fabric stores for new chair decor, thrift and
art stores for flower pots and knick-knacks for your curio cabinets.
I remember watching you and mom redecorate
her dining chairs, and write out orders
for the Home Interior Designs catalogue.
I remember looking through your Avon and
Mary Kay books---dreaming to buy something one day.
I remember the jokes and stories about family and friends.
I remember the park by your house---
my cousins and I thought you owned it
and we renamed it after you.
I remember my birthday presents----
the Dominique Dawes doll you bought
me for Christmas, after she won the Olympics.
I remember you helping mom purchase my violin.
I remember the argument you and mom had
and I heard you curse for the first time.
And I prayed that you two would kiss and make up.
I remember your support in Girl Scouts
and the Jabberwock Scholarship and Gala.
I remember you being proud of me.
I remember your hugs and your kisses on my cheek.
I remember seeing you last when we buried your sister.
Now, we're without you and my chest caves
in as I breathe through the pain.
I twist and I turn.
For the last two days,
I wake up in sweats or stare in places
that I wish I could find you.
And the thought of not seeing you alive,
I feel the anxiety from April coming down on me.
R.I.P Aunt Jean. March 02, 1948 - April 05, 2017
Talk about April showers, huh? And did you really have to pass away the day before my birthday? I know, heaven couldn't wait.....Nope, heaven just couldn't wait.