I remember when my grandma died.

At her funeral,

the preacher said

those who had accepted Jesus

would see her again

but those who had not

had lost her forever.

And I hadn’t cried.

And I was angry.

It’s callous

to peddle your wares

in the face of grief.

 

Saying goodbye to my family,

I made the long trip home.

And I hadn’t cried.

And I was angry.

So I drank

and played board games

with a friend.

Pushing feelings aside.

But when I went to sleep,

I heard her voice

And woke up sobbing.

 

And now,

Three years later,

I am still angry

and

I am still crying.