Grief Wasn’t What I Expected

Morning broke without you,
and with it, your suffering.

I thought your loss would break me,
as much as your love empowered me.

Death crept closer to you every day.
As your breath grew heavy, my chest tightened.

I began to picture myself curled up in your bed,
crying and holding on to our memories.

Would we be able to eat?
Would we be able to speak?

I feared not being home,
I feared not being ready.

But faith has a way of preparing us,
so I learned all I could about where you were going.

You left in the tranquility of the night,
the summer air became calm and cool.

And yes, I cried
when death came—

But when I saw you
no longer in pain,

Relief washed over me;
I could breathe again.

We stayed close to you, 
letting the silence settle.

We were quiet—
as if not to wake you. 

We stayed close to him,
until he was carried away.

Morning broke without him,
and with it, his suffering.

We ate breakfast in peace,
imagining a feast waiting for him.

All the laban he could drink, and sweets 
far better than what he left behind.

Grief wasn’t what I expected…
it wasn’t chaos; it was peace

Grief wasn’t darkness— 
it was mercy; it was release.