They say “the year of the firsts”
are the worst…
“They” seem to be right,
Though, I have no comparison point… for now

Today. I think I may be slightly numb.
I’d rather be if I’m being honest.
But then,
I feel even more disconnected from you.

Read through our texts last night,
Searching for what I’m not quite sure.
Your guidance no doubt.
Every short line from you,

A reassurance of kinds.
A reminder.
A care.

Words I will
never
receive
again.

Moments…
They have forever ceased.
Frozen.
Still.

Only proof exists within my mind.

Even lightening bugs
Make my head dance
With memories of you…
Or fireflies, as you’d call them.

You admired how I cared about them,
Being so careful as I interfered 
With their natural flow.
And you’d brag about that too…

And my vices.
Oh those.
Echo the flaws in you.
I grasped them tightly and 
kept your expressions, anxious thoughts,
analytics, and pain for injustice …
 
Everything.
Everywhere.

Nowhere.

And today, instead of making you breakfast,
giving you gifts, or most importantly pouring my
gratitude for you onto a card that I
I carefully selected,
While dodging all the strangers
in the isle,
Who didn’t get you for their dad…

No. Instead. 

I stood with my brother, 
And our kids,
By a mound of new growing grass and dirt
When the shell of you lays.

The tears I needed to pour,
Did not.
They were emptied yesterday.
With real thoughts.

For today,
I just need to survive.