Page 28 - 2016 Autumn-Winter Issue
P. 28

©jessicahyde/fotolia.com           The Visit

                                                                                              by Judith Sullivan

                                                                                      You start to take form in the back of my mind,
                                                                                                 Deciding to visit for awhile.

                                                                                          A virtual daughter with smiling cheeks,
                                                                                               Marine blue eyes, sandaled feet,
                                                                                               Beaming forth from my inside.

                                                                                                       I grab you tightly
                                                                                                     And you do the same.
                                                                                                      A howling lets loose
                                                                                                   Which cannot be named.

                                                                                                       How cool you feel.
                                                                                                       How can this be?
                                                                                                Since we’re standing so close,
                                                                                                I’m with you, you’re with me.

                                                                                                    I know what is wrong.
                                                                                                      You knew all along,
                                                                                                      That wishes forsake

                                                                                                    No matter how strong.

                                                                                                    Retreating ghost child
                                                                                                     Before you take leave,

                                                                                                        One favor I ask,
                                                                                                      An impossible task.
                                                                                       Please enter the places, the motherly spaces,
                                                                                         Allowing my sorrow a moment’s reprieve.

       Judith Sullivan is a retired LP, MA in Counseling Psychology who lives in St. Paul, MN. In December of 2001, her 25-year old daughter, Melissa,
       suffered a cardiac arrest and died 12 days later. As a result of the sudden and complicated nature of her death, she wrote extensively about the
       experience of losing her, her grief as it evolved over almost a decade and specifically the invaluable support she and her husband received from other
       people. The culmination of this endeavor resulted in a self-published book entitled, The Terrifying Wind: Seeking Shelter Following the Death of a
       Child, in January 2014.

2 8 |We Need Not Walk Alone
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