Birthdays
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I’m turning 38. You should be playing at the park with your cousins, learning to ride a bike.
I’m turning 40. You should be starting first grade.
I’m turning 50. You might have been falling in love, staying out late.
Still losing
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And this is the part that only another loss parent can ever understand: That no matter how much joy you find, no matter how much pain you channel into change, no matter how much love you find in their siblings or in the incredible friends they have brought to your life, it is never enough. It can never be enough.
She is not replaceable.
Read MoreWinter, two poems
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and it is like this every year
when the axis of earth dares change its mind,
and when the memories of past winters
turn to crystals in the air
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Objections
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There is a nihilism implicit here, I know. I see it too, lurking behind my snarky objections and passive-aggressive stance towards the constant self-improvement and self-branding in workplaces these days. What is the point of setting goals? What is the point of organization and preparation; collecting glass bottles and like-new fuzzy pajamas with feet if the baby - well, you know the story by now. What is the point of anything at all? As soon as you have set out your plans in neat, bulleted lists, a pandemic hits, the laws change, a storm floods your city, the power is knocked out for three days.
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