Death breaks away the veil
Transitions both living and dead
When I was four – but nearly five!
I lost my favourite uncle
I wept, I cried, hid under a chair!
My child’s brain learned loss that day
But I buried it deep within
Until my second loss – my grandmother
Before I was thirteen
I spent our usual summer with her
Not knowing of a diagnosis
Which was destined to take her
That last week alone with her, I grew up
Unaware it was the end
I made my desperate call home
I didn’t know I’d never see her again
Not alive, not dead
Trapped in my psyche in a limbo
Like Schrödinger’s cat.
I learned the futility
Of wishing grief and loss away