The Long Road Home
(after losing my son)

Sole Sister: SALMA
Wife/ Mother/Health Plan Admin/Activist/Blogger

Toronto, Canada

Rainy Days & Mondays

it is the day of my graduation
i spent hours walking up and down yonge street
looking for the right pair of shoes
i must find something to wear
something stylish 

i spot a pair of steve maddens and i'm overjoyed
they will go perfectly with my abaya
i cross my fingers as i ask the clerk for a pair in my size
she tells me they are some of the most sought-after shoes
and i can't help but kinda sorta rolling my eyes thinking, "they all say that"

i'm in no mood for celebrations
i was sure he'd be here
there 
looking past the sea of faces 
looking for me

you see i had this picture in my head
a picture that didn't include grief and loss
i am actually at a loss
...how did i get here?

grief is lonely
grief is deafening
grief is silence

silence nags and teases cruelly, there's no peace in IT

all around me
aisles fill with people moving on...moving up...(simply) moving
me? i don't move
i don't buy into the whole charade of pretending

the road home has been more bumpy than smooth

my burden heavier than I remember 

sitting waiting for my name to be called i feel sick

i'd like to empty the  thoughts that I have carelessly let fall from the cloud of despair

all the things in the world that reminds me of him

suddenly i simply want to rest my head

and tell of tales woven in ditches and roadsides

i want to whistle into the clean air

unpolluted from thoughts and tears

i think about my son

he should have been here

he should be alive

for now i will walk
even if in circles
even if on a tight-rope of despair
i must continue on my path
until i am free of the weight that I carried in my womb
the weight that materialized
into nothingness

degree in hand
blaring lights shout from below their hooded covers
hand shakes left and right
it's done
steve walks with me across the stage
i'm glad i brought him along
he keeps me steady
and helps me find the side-road that will take me into the unknown