This nugget of a feeling
Lodged around the chest cavity
Feels kind of like light angina
It’s not like Thanksgiving grief
Where I’d need a nap 
After eating for hours
Although I do grieve over my gluttony 
Every November
Tonight
It was the easy shift into older grief 
That once was raw and claustrophobic 
This feeling of loss that I’m uneasily familiar with
Where we can shift our conversation from refried beans
To when I’m finally going to go through 
The stuff of my mom’s
That I couldn’t let go of
But I still can’t seem to face
That tiny bit of unpacked rawness that just sits
In our garage
It’s easy to look over now 
It’s become part of my daily scenery
I think what’s scary  
Is when I finally unpack it
Will I feel empty or
Will I feel free?