You’re Not Alone

You’re Not Alone
(A Poem for the Grieving)

To get the news.






To feel the world spin,
think of childhood memories,
be filled with regrets and what-ifs,
long for more time —
one more hug,
or laugh.


To collapse,
scream into a pillow,
and nod your head in disbelief.
To become

To be handed
a watch,
and eyeglasses,
and take back everything you made
when you were a child.

To walk the streets
oblivious to the world,
with no purpose,
living days you’re not,
afraid to even try remembering
the most beautiful experiences,
we can no longer share.

To endure the void,
the yearning,
and the finality.


To write a eulogy,
clean out a home,
get the mail,
and take the calls.

The pain,
the reality,
and the tears.

To not sleep,
to be afraid to close your eyes,
and to open them and realize
it really happened.

To feel like a child again,
missing someone,
and the challenge of forcing the trauma to make room
for positive memories.

To pick up the phone
to make a call you can’t make
and to want to rewind the clock
that can’t be rewound.

To live it
every day.
This is grief.


But you are not alone.

8 thoughts on “You’re Not Alone

  1. Oh Andrew

    Thank you for this today. I feel all these things today.

    It’s so heart wrenching,

    I’m here for you too.

    I’m working on a tv show and it’s hard to keep it inside. My dad’s birthday was yesterday. He was turning 80 & excited to celebrate it.

    Why did this happen?

    Did your dad pass away on 2/11? Mine did.

    Love strength peace hugs to you.

    Thank you for the beautiful poem & thoughts.

    Kimberly Xo

    Kimberly Lynn

    Key Assistant Location Manager NO TOMORROW (760) 567-7291 cell

    CBS Productions 7333 Radford Avenue North Hollywood, CA 91605 818-255-7370 office


  2. OH MY GOSH, reading this was like you wrote it just for me! Line for line, I’m thinking you’ve read my mind! I’m 56 with no children (not that I never wanted them) and my parents were EVERYthing to me! When I was little, I used to pray every night that my parents would never die. They died. 3 years ago. Within a year of each other.
    Every line…….word for word…….about this poem, even about cleaning out the house……chills, and tears! But then, I know you’ve been through it too, so I’m sure we went through the same things………you just know how to put it on paper. Excellent! We can share this?

    1. Thank you Donna. I’m sorry you’ve endured the same experience. Yes, I wrote it so people could share it with others who they believe may find comfort from it. I appreciate your kind note.

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