It
took
a year
for the bad
memories to fade,
before she could think happily
of her mom again.
Her words bore
a faint
pink
scar.
A poem from my Afterdeath collection. I’m finding this to be true particularly in regards to my dad’s death. It’s like I have to work my way backwards. Peace to our ♥s!
Serendippity 
Love the last line.
Thanks Judy.
Ooof. That’s so true and so hard. I can only write about the negative stuff in trickles…
I know. You have to touch the negative stuff, then back off.
Very few hurts in my life came from my parents. Still the pain of loss leaves wounds that take forever to heal….
Yes, it does. I hope you’re feeling better and coughing less.