Come back to me

By Kim Aasland

December 2021 (fourth Christmas without Nate)

How it used to be

Come back to me
I know you won’t
It doesn’t work like that
The way back is shut and sealed and locked.

Can’t I just try one more way to heal you?
Can’t I just grasp one more straw?

No more Christmases with you
No more deep talks
No more hikes
No more brother for my daughters
No more son for my husband and I
at least not in this lifetime

Was it really that bad?
Not on the outside, no
But inside your brain tormented you with a wrath only you could feel.

I want to kick my feet, shake my fist at the air, and wail deeply
But it still won’t bring you back

I have my dreams
But they are a poor substitute

Job’s friends visit me to tell me it was my fault
Job’s wife cajoles me to curse God and die
Pharisees remind me how much better they are than me,
How they are safe because of their techniques

What can I say?
That I hope something equally terrible happens to you?
I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy

So I take what I can get: your visits in my sleep and the long term hope of heaven.

Never again your face on this earth
Always in my heart
Too long until
Eternity welcomes me as well

Pity me
This is a road you don’t want to walk.