How to Say Goodbye

How to Say Goodbye


I touch my cheeks, only to find it
just as dry as before. Free of
tears, the same as the time
I woke up. And I ask myself:
Why am I not crying?
Why am I not feeling sad?
What is wrong with me?

Just a few minutes past three,
my father got a phone call
from the hospital. The doctors said
grandmother’s heart was failing her.
When my parents got there, she was already gone.
She died just like that in her sleep.

I wasn’t able to say goodbye.
I wanted to see her one last time,
to talk some more, and maybe
even tell her a lie.
“I’ve graduated, grandma!”
Three words that would have made her so happy.

I don’t know how I should feel.
I think something is wrong with me.
I don’t know how to cry,
or how to feel sad.
And I’m no good with goodbyes.

Looking back to how she was every week
when I visited her, now, I could
only feel a strangled sense of relief.
“At least now, she’s no longer suffering.”

She used to tell me
how she hated it at the hospital.
Bedridden, and with no one to talk to.
She was such a charming person,
always energetic and moving about
even at the age of ninety-six.

Is it wrong,
for me to feel nothing
but relief? Even though
she’s gone now, and I
won’t ever see her again.
Or listen to all her stories
and talks of a time long past…

Three weeks and counting.
I still don’t know how I’m supposed
to feel, to react.
What is right and proper anyway?

Yet somehow, thinking of her
at peace wherever she is, makes it easier.
To finally accept that it will take time
to get use to the empty space she left,
with no lively chatter to fill it.

I’m not happy, and not sad; but
not hollow either. Still I feel that
I can say goodbye now.
This indecision about how to feel or act,
I will carry in my heart as a reminder of you-
your stories, your laughter and your love.
"Goodbye, grandma..."

...57 lines...
Free Verse
I used shades of purple for the words
because it was my grandmother's favorite color.
This is sort of Part Two...
I wrote another poem which isn't necessarily a prelude;
but has a relation with this one.
"The World Continues to Turn"