That first Monday
My home was empty
We were in our own homes
We didn’t gather
We were out on our own
My home was so empty
My couches so empty
My dishes all clean
The silence was
Deafening
What do we do now?
I’m in my house in grief
A grief my family
Doesn’t seem to share
Or understand
Some still there
Some have gone
Now it’s been so long
Who even cares
Anymore
I wasn’t ready for that empty nest
For the ten years of distance
For the pretending everything is okay
I went off and did my own thing
The “right” thing
I stayed in the fold
I worked for the shepherd
I distanced myself from those who had walked away
I abandoned my friends
I abandoned myself
And when shit hit the fan
And more shit hit the fan
And even more shit hit the fan
The ones in the fold
Folded
Crumpled
Unable to withstand the depth of my despair
Even I couldn’t stand in the deep, drowning waters
But those who had walked away
Listened to their bodies and
Heard the request for rest
They were ready to really care
To see my exhaustion
To just be there
Not fix it
Not excuse it
Not minimize it
Not say empty words
Just be
Maybe there will come a time
When they’re exhausted by me too
But at least the supports are multiplied
Not divided as
We once thought they were