Grieve with Hope

My nephew, the youngest of the 18 grandchildren in my family, is gone. He was tragically taken from us at only 19 years old — way too soon; way too much life he had yet to live; things he had already planned to do; people whose lives he would have impacted.

I have met Grief before. We’ve come to be on a personal name basis over the years; each meeting as different as the personal connection they are to my being. There will never be a time when I’ll be comfortable it. I don’t want to get to know Grief any deeper than what I’ve already experienced. But unfortunately, Grief seldom announces its arrival first. It just invites itself into your home, changing everyone and everything inside. And so it is today, as it will be tomorrow.

Last year, my sister (the mother of this same nephew), went through a medical scare which prompted her to do as I have often done when I’m dealing with something — write. And she wrote this poem to leave (if or when necessary) speaking on her own behalf. After learning of her son’s untimely death, she decided that this poem was meant for him and for his friends he left behind.

Grieve With Hope

by Glenda Green (Mom to David Green)