Today marks one year since the suicide of my dear friend Judy. I love her and I miss her. I post this again, even though I am no longer in the angry stage of grief, as a way of remembering her and encouraging everyone else to remember her as well. Perhaps if you read this and you knew Judy, you can post a happy memory of her in the comments–or share a similar experience of your own. Thank you.
Grief is a Lion that Lies in Wait
Grief, a lion sharpening his claws,
lies purring at my light-foot leaping mind
and memories that squeak and scamper by—
to pounce upon me when I dare to pause.
I hear him growl when I say your name.
I feel his tail lash when I have to speak
about the way you died: the shock, the shame.
When I see your smile, he bares his teeth.
Yet you were gentle, soft, and sweet:
a slender-boned gazelle, a tender mouse,
the nursemaid of the pride, the cubs’ retreat,
a strength for woes, a den made safe for doubts.
O Judy, little lioness of joy:
How could you turn from comfort to destroy?