I used to be agnostic. About grief.
When my father had his heart attack, I couldn’t really begin to understand the depth. The gravity.
He was alive wasn’t he?
Walking wasn’t he?
So the grief skimmed my shoulders and took flight after a brief moment of trespass.
Now it dives deeper.
No longer in trespass. It owns the territory.
And I feel for you, as if my soul were in your body.
And I realise.
Because the fear.
That this moment, will one day come to me.
When my father too, breathes his last breath.
The fear fills me so deep.
I am drowning.
And I cry tears for you.
But perhaps just as many if not more for me.
For a moment I’m not yet ready to face.