I will mourn you when

You’re gone, and those

Rites of your passing

Allow my grief out from

The volcano the furnace

The seismic pressure

I am holding together

While you live each day

As less of who you are

Diminished, diminishing

Lost but still here, still

Mine, not fully mine, and

Not always lost. Still

Funny, silly, bitter, and

Yes, still sweet. My love

No longer the helpmate,

The lover, the champion

Of our lives. Still lost. I

Will mourn you now and

Then. I will mourn. Now

The concept, Ambiguous Loss, is sound and disturbing. It is not the loss that is ambiguous; that is real but there is ambiguity. That lies in the fact that you are grieving someone who has not passed. Lucky you, now you can mix guilt in with the grief.

Burt was alive when I wrote this poem of anticipatory grief. I anticipated my grief, another accurate and disturbing concept, knowing I would mourn him when he died. I do. But I also mourned all the other losses we had as he declined. They call it Anticipatory Grief, which again is not completely accurate. You are grieving in advance of the full-on loss; but that grief, while you’re beloved is alive and has dementia, that grief is in real time.

Burt was still my love as he went into the decline of dementia. He was not the man he had been. He never would be again except in grief. And in memory.

These are two [of many] songs of grief. The In March poem is a companion to Mourning, as you can see in its echo.

Grieving

There are so many words but
I have only used loss; I’ve only
Said “I’m mourning” or “I mourn”
I have said “I miss you” and I’ve
Mentioned that as I missed you,
You were also missing. I knew
You were lost and losing little
Bits of yourself over time which
I noticed you had lost. A whole
Concept, a man-made construct
Time was lost to you. This not
Being able to tell time caused
A consternation. You did ask
After the time a lot. “What time
Is it?” A question that came at
Minutes apart. You wanted to
Know, to understand but you no
Longer had the sense of it. Time
Was already really irrelevant and
Lost. I knew I was grieving you
[There I have said it.] I still had
Little bits of you but I mourned,
Bereft of the partner who would
Know how to fix it. Whatever it
Might be. The companion who
Did things, set the clocks back
Or forward, the lover who would
Recognize my feelings, the friend
Who would console when I was
Sad. I grieved alone. Sad alone. I rejoiced alone. You were here and we did laugh and chat together. Your chitchat could be so very Endearing. Now you are truly lost
To me but not lost in confusion   Lost. Gone. I can begin mourning
Properly, my grief made real by
Your timely departure. You were
Able to pick your moment, time
Your passing perfectly. I have a
New concept of time now too, a
Time when a vibrant loving man
Left me with memories, a time
When that man, my man began
His long fail into confusion, and
That time when I journeyed with
Him in sickness ’til death did us
Part and I was left bereft but with
Memories of his strength, of him.
Memories of his generosity and
His love and his care. I grieve his
Loss. I mourn your passing but
I rejoice in all our time together.
It was our time. We used it well.
Bereavement, grief, has its time
Now. Memories of all our time
Fill my time now as I grieve you
And miss us. As I mourn our time

In March, after you’re gone

I mourn you now as the
Rites of your passing let
Me, permit me to mourn
You, completely, a little
At a time. Mourning, it’s
A process, I say, a little at
A time but in all this time
I have mourned you, not
Completely but a little at
A time as I lost you, not
Completely, but a little at
A time. All this time when
You were still here yet not
Completely you, I mourned
You, losing you as I did, a
Little at a time. I mourned
Through laughter and tears
That never completely fall
As you slipped away, lost
To me, lost to yourself, you
Are gone now, passed from
This realm, no longer lost,
As you were when first I
Mourned you, yet lost to
Me. I will mourn you. Now