I lost my cousin this week. My brother of my heart, who had his mother's gentle spirit and his father's giving nature. He died too young of liver failure due to Hepatitis C, that he didn't even know he had until January, and then kept it from the family. Last Friday at this time, we were waiting for him to receive a new liver. In the time it took for the liver to arrive at the hospital, his condition deteriorated. We lost him on Monday.
I don't normally share my poetry. I need to this time, and I apologize for the rough edges. It's from the heart rather than the head.
I loved you Murray. You've left a huge gaping hole in our family and in my heart. Be at peace, my brother of the heart.
For Murray
I want to write of my grief, pour out my heart
But the words won’t come.
I want to tell of your gentleness, love and care
But the words won’t come.
I want to lash out in anger, find someone to blame
But I can barely mention your name
And the tears flow from my heart again and again
But the words won’t come.
Why is some others' grief so different from mine?
Why when our lives were so entwined?
How is the hole in my heart not the same
For the brother of my heart that you became?
I’d ask if I could
But the words won’t come.
Cousin in fact, brother in heart
I’d sing your praises-but where to start-
Your smile, your laugh, the love in my heart?
But the words won’t come.
The Christmas letter, your voice on a call
The hole in my life I can’t fill at all.
But who will listen or comprehend.
That the words won’t come?
Alone, bereft, my brother in heart
I loved you, I’ll miss you. Be at peace.
I’d talk to others, to try to explain
But the words won’t come.
