Skip to main content

Grief



I've been trying to write a letter to you
since you visited me in my dreams
days after to you left this earth.
With all of these emotions,
I struggle to find the words to express
what it's like to lose a giant.
I worshiped you,
in a way.
God gave you to me
before I knew I needed you.
He knew 
and you knew,
and it seems that now,
more than ever,
you cross my mind in infinite ways.
Is this what losing a parent feels like?
I don't desire to do this again,
although inevitable.
And I think about the mortality of my two remaining parents,
and I beg God to spare me-
to just give me a little more time to
prepare myself for the kind of indefinite
and sporadic
pain I'm bound to feel.
And these moments of grief cut so sharply,
so suddenly...
the unexpected tears flow and
all I can really do is just
let it rain.
I rain for you.
Even in the sun, I rain.
And I'm embarrassed and ashamed,
sometimes,
to tear up in a bar
or while walking down a crowded street
or to just sob for you in bed,
crying myself to sleep.
Is this grief?
It feels selfish.
And I hate that my words aren't poetic enough,
that the songs I began to write about you-
inspired by you-
have gone untouched and unfinished.
My grief is as peculiar as the nature of our relationship.
Where are you and what are you doing?
I want to know.
Do you cry for your children?
I cry for you.

Forever your child/sister/friend/fan.





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary?  That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente
Post a Comment
Read more

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

  Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like they ar
Post a Comment
Read more

Exhausting Possibilities: A Sermon by Rev. Mia M. McClain

2 Kings 4:1-7  Delivered on August 15, 2021 at Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina I am a child of Grey’s Anatomy. No, not the human anatomy book by Henry Gray; the hit medical television drama. It’s safe to say that because of my obsession with the show, I am who am I, today. Between Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away With Murder, writer and producer Shonda Rhimes was basically my 3rd parent. In Grey’s Anatomy, so many life lessons were taught and learned. I saw so much of myself in the various groundbreaking characters she made room for on primetime television, and Shonda’s theologies and ideologies are on clear display in many of the landmark scenes. One scene, in particular, has had a lasting effect on me.  In the 2nd episode of season 2, a trauma patient comes in who the paramedics have been working on for almost a half hour with no improvement in his condition. The paramedic tells the Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey, that the patient is practically g
Post a Comment
Read more