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two years ago
i stood before that door
of the man
who was my hero
who i loved to my core
who captivated us all
with his stories
of endless wisdom and wit
who had been kept from me
“he’s not well”
“he can’t see anyone”
yet he welcomed me
just like always
my heart jumped for joy
next time my son could be there
it would be alright again
my son could take his place
at those bustling tables
of family
holidays
that i had always known
they would always be there, right?
but for that brief precious afternoon
we were reunited
i had found what was lost
stay longer, they all said
we’re having pizza and salad
it’s ok, i said
didn’t want to overstay my welcome
they insisted
so i took my place
and for a while all was
as it had been before
we still felt her absence
voids that could never be filled
the house
with all the familiar trappings gone
but somehow the same table
reappeared
the same spirit
i could feel her with us
smiling
everything was ok now
so i thought
but then silence followed
and then
“they were shocked and dismayed”
“you can’t just invite yourself over”
“it’s not 1980 anymore”
“my father is a gentleman”
“of course he wouldn’t have turned you away”
“they want no contact with you”
my heart shattered
they were gone
lost to me
my son could not
take his place after all
but still the fucking emails come
deaf to me
deaf to everything inside me
you fucking whitewash
still in shock
disbelief
still feeling the aftershocks
“sending my love”
“hope you and carl are well”
“how was his summer?”
“he’s at such a lovely age”
you’re so proud of everything you gave me right?
all the art
culture
highmindedness
symphonies
the prestigious Curtis alum
intelligentsia at our house
piano lessons
bassoon
literature
even money
always giving me something
how about love while you were at it?
but you couldn’t touch me
i was so wrong to you
had to be what you wanted me to be
be a fucking pushover
never speak out of turn
be that shy fat girl
amuse yourselves with me
mock and ridicule everything about me
how grateful i am for everything you give me!
of course it’s enough!
so keep sending your fucking emails
keep trolling me
sometimes i hate myself
that i even feel the pain from you
that i even think about you
that i can’t forget you
that i didn’t finish my book
why the fuck can’t i forget about you
and just think about
my beautiful son and husband
just have to accept
you may never be erased
but i can put you in your place
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