I never thought the pain would be physical
Like a hole next to my heart
Or is it here, close to the gut?
¿En las entrañas?
(I never cared much for anatomy)
So many years busy being parents
Groceries to buy, forms to fill, meals to cook
So much running around
We were getting good at it when they left
I yearn to come back home to a messy, noisy house
School bags, toys, clothes scattered everywhere
How I used to complain!
This spotless, silent house reminds me it’s over
Today I want to scream, I want to make a mess
The sadness comes in waves, as does grief
Mostly, I’m ok, at times even euphoric
And then the emptiness is back and takes me by the throat
Where have they gone? and why?
Are they safe?
How do you shield what you no longer hold?
Children do not belong to us, I am told
I want to scream