The year is almost over,
And another will soon start.
This year, however,
I’ll begin with a broken heart.

I’m missing my loved ones,
My friends who’ve recently passed.
I miss their sweet voices,
Their smiles and their laughs.

It was supposed to be a Merry Christmas!
Another photo in the album!
Then suddenly that changed,
to the first Christmas without ’em…

I screamed up at God,
“CAN YOU JUST TELL ME WHY?”
“ARE YOU EVEN UP THERE?!”
“AM I JUST YELLING AT THE SKY?!?!”

I fell to my knees,
and started punching at the ground.
When suddenly I realized…
My loved one’s are all around…

They’re right here with me,
Feeling all this pain.
Does that mean they feel the sunshine?
Does it mean they feel the rain?

Maybe they’re not as gone,
As the world seems to say.
Maybe they’re right beside me…
Every night and every day!

If they’re here with me,
Guiding my every move…
Then I know that I can make it!
Because there’s nothing they can’t do!

This poem is dedicated in loving memory to my friends Alex Wisniewski, Joe Ewer, and Tammy Pouliot, but it goes out to anyone who has lost a loved one.

You are not alone. ❤️❤️❤️

Dear Former Self,

I know life is hard for you. I understand how just existing is painful. Once you dreamed of being happy, or at least content. Now you only dream of death. Don’t give up though little one. Start believing that happiness is within reach, that you can and will find it someday.

You think you’re so wise, but there’s things you still don’t know. Someone should have told you that what you’re feeling is a sickness of the mind. Instead they let you believe you are bad – antisocial to hide away, stubborn not to eat, and “always airing your dirty laundry” when you finally do speak. This sickness, this clinical depression, has eaten away your confidence, overwhelmed you with sadness, and closed you eyes to hope. It’s trying to kill you and right now it’s winning. But you’ll get strong, find the help you need, and beat this thing back.

Someday those endless stream of doctors will lead you to some good medicine. You’ll have to keep up with a lot of pills, but it will quell that mad misery plaguing you. You will get to know your sickness inside and out, including how to zap it’s energy and hold over you.

I will not lie. You will never kill the beast. But your dream of happiness is still achievable. You can learn to tame the monster, hold it at bay, and when it grabs you, you’ll be able to loosen yourself from its grip. As you grow bigger, it’ll get small and weak.

Someday you won’t be alone in your struggle either. You’ll find love and understanding in real friends and a life partner who takes care of you when you can’t care of yourself. This love will fill your dry well of loneliness and you’ll feel warmth instead of that chilling cold.

You’ll manage a semblance of normalcy – and not as a show, but genuine stability and satisfaction. You won’t be happy all the time, but you will come to a place where you realize you’re happy with your life. No longer will you dream of death. Instead you’ll dream of exciting new adventure lying ahead. Oh, and adventures you will have – summitting snowy peaks, riding trains through India, making wine with your cousins in eastern Europe, skinny dipping in the Pacific Ocean, studying under the Dalai Lama, and so much more.

So don’t give up little one. It may take a while, but some day your dream of happiness will come true.

When a human dies, the world stands still for a quiet moment and no one on earth can breathe. Then each individual except for you takes their next inhale and I realize that the world was never still at all.

People say that they would die for you, but do people ever say that they would live for you?
I would live for you; I will live the life that you never got to experience fully and I will take you with me.

The sorts of things that people live for; I will chase exhilaration as a hungry ghost praying for its bones and flesh.
I will collect my insides begging to love them. I will watch fireflies and wonder what they mean.

I will curse the day that you had to leave this blip of mine.
I will dance until I cry, then I will cry until I laugh. I will throw myself into the depths of an ice bath just to miss the heat.

I will find joy in the little things because it’s what you would have wanted. And I will stop smoking cigarettes out of spite. I will celebrate the person that you were and the people that you healed and forgive you for letting yourself be so out of reach.

Since you disappeared, I’ve seen you everywhere! At the sight of tea, the sound of a sad guitar, in the eyes of those who loved you.
Those who knew the gift of knowing you and wanted you so badly to stay.

When a human dies, the soul searches the universe for a body to be held; what I would do to feel your warm tears wet my goose-bumped shoulder and squeeze your hand saying that we’re not that different from each other instead of this.

When a human dies, their friends and blood carry their body across the fields of a lonesome cemetery and place flowers to keep them company.
And for some people the world keeps spinning. But for some of us, the world is just as still.

It was Diwali eve.
Walking about on the crowded streets of a busy bazaar, with a handful of unnecessarily full shopping bags, I attempted to absorb the capitalistic madness and the sensory overload all around me. Evidently, I had spent too much time away from home, and had clearly lost the knack of smart street side shopping. A skill over which, I had unwittingly relinquished my mastery.
Looking to purchase those lovely bangles from the street stall, I found myself shamelessly bargaining with the vendor to reduce the ticket price by 200 rupees(2 dollars) . Not because I did’not want to pay the extra couple of bucks but because it felt like a gratifying activity to engage in .There was something ego boosting about seeing someone succumb to my whimsical wishes.
It was then I felt a gentle pat on my back.
In front of me , well below eye level stood a little boy who if had to guess, was no older than possibly 8 years. A boy whose smile matched the smiles on the colorful balloons he carried and intended to sell. I was smitten and felt an instant liking. Right away, I experienced a fondness for his face, his untainted innocence, his purity, his aura.But I had no logical need for his giant balloons, then or ever at all. Sadly realizing this, I gently shooed him away. His face fell but he didn’t move. It was clear he wasn’t just about ready to give up on me yet.Mustering up courage , he begged me for help stating he had’nt eaten in a while and any money I could hand out would go a long way in feeding him and his sister.I wanted to help him but I had no local currency. As I rummaged through my purse I kept glancing at him, half expecting him to grab my purse any minute and run away. But he waited patiently. “I am sorry but I don’t have any local money” , I informed him sadly.Although he was disappointed , at some level I believe he could sense my genuine intent to help.Sheepishly he folded his hands behind his back and stuttered” Aunty, it’s ok. But can I walk you to a store near by? They have firecrackers and accept credit cards”
I found myself smiling involuntarily.
Clearly, it wasn’t a very thought out request . He was hungry and needed food. He has no need for frivolous fireworks. He just wanted them.
In front of me , I saw just a child. A child searching for joy in unsuspecting ways. A child who had no plan about his next meal. A child who had his priorities all wrong.
He was a child and that was all there was to him.
And that fact , justified all aspects irrational about the “please” he said to me that day .As I accompanied him to the store and got him the fireworks he desired, he walked away elated while I walked away with an awakening.
Sometimes, it is ok to just not foresee a future.
Sometimes, It is ok to be frivolous.
It is ok to look for instant gratification.
It is ok to not have a plan at all for some tomorrows.
Vetrivel and many such kids continue to live their lives by the day.
All they have is this today
A today that can never guarantee that a tomorrow shall even be.
All they have is this today
A today to tide through
In hope, joy and wishful childlike glee.

the day you begin at your lowest is the day they need you to smile,
to “look like you want to be here,” to put on the mask,
so you don’t ruin his day, so you don’t make her uneasy.
honesty is selfish, so you force the grin,
the dam holding back grief as it threatens to flood,
an apology for daring to express a neurotic emotion,

intrusive thoughts rush through cracks,
the fracture in understanding reality where you don’t know how to accept what’s true,
having faith in the dark of your closed eyes that you will see light when you open them again,
these truths that shape your identity and guide your actions,
an inundation that leaves you horrified by what belongs to you,
until you fortify for mind with a pill
as i slip into comfortable delusion, breathe shallow,
my medicine tastes like lobotomy.

the hollow platitudes of condolences that feel obligated to speak by the collective obligation to speak,
“hope you feel better”
“you sound crazy.”
pressing at the seams of your fragile control.
it thrives on this quiet, this forced calm,
i’m impatient.

makes you wonder where the clear water went,
if it was ever there at all,
makes you feel like you had it coming during the day you’re at your lowest,
when you’re meant to lead a presentation for your boss- pace your self and inhale deep so they can’t hear tremble in your voice,
when you’re meant to join your family for dinner- running through multiple choice scenarios in an attosecond to formulate the intricate lie you’ll tell your mother in lieu of causing her worry,
when you have no thoughts to share as tour body puppeteers your actions to fulfill your daily routine,
somewhere deep within no matter how hidden,
a forcefully forgotten memory of trauma is randomly triggered and you lose control, embarrassing yourself by letting see the face behind the mask,
the pain behind the smile,
makes you feel like you deserve to hurt*** yourself

When I woke up this morning
I didn’t know
What I would come home to.
Where did you go?
There wasn’t a warning
Now we’re all in mourning
Wond’ring if our time was well spent.

Oh brother dearly departed of mine
Why did you leave
Without saying good night?
I was sleeping soundly
When I woke up to a scream
That I swear was you saying goodbye.

As the time passes
We all start to heal.
Except for one brother
Who just couldn’t deal.
Several years later
All that reckless behavior
Just got him a grave next to yours.

Oh brothers dearly departed of mine
Why did you leave
Without saying good night?
I was sleeping soundly
When I woke up to a scream
That I swear was you saying goodbye.

Now there’s only one brother
Left standing with me.
I thought things were fine
Until he tried to leave.
In sharing this truth,
Though closer in youth,
I thought that our time was well spent

Oh brother nearly departed of mine,
Why would you leave
Without saying goodbye?
I thought that only you
Could understand what I’ve been through,
So at least it would be you
To say goodbye.

Author’s Note:
I debated whether or not I wanted to share this with the world. It’s been a part of me for 20 years. It’s one of the most vulnerable parts of me and putting that on the internet for the world to see is intimidating, even as someone who sees vulnerability as strength rather than weakness.

I wrote that second verse when I was 15 trying to make a song out of it, but more words never came no matter how hard I tried. As the inspiration came though me to write the rest this month, I realize now that I had more life to live before it could truly come to life. It needed to be on the back burner all this time to find the full depth of this feeling I will always carry with me.

I don’t know if I’ll ever try to turn this into a song like the original intent. Just writing that last verse, saying it all out loud, and writing this post have brought me to tears more than once. But it felt right to at least bring it to life as is because Jeremiah would be turning 40 tomorrow and that’s the kind of celebration you do big gestures for, right?

25 years without him, 9 years without Adam, 3 years since other things. This kind of healing doesn’t happen without scars. I am the happiest and healthiest I’ve ever been in my life. These feelings still creep in now and again. It doesn’t make me any less happy and healthy, it’s just a small price tag to pay for the love I still carry.