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October 21, 2022

 

Friday, October 21, 2022

 

We buried my uncle today.

My aunt had asked me to say a few words at his grave.

All week I’ve been thinking about what to say,

how to speak words of comfort and of hope,

reading in my Bible of people who’d known grief.

People like Job, David, Peter, Paul and Jesus.

But standing next to that hole,

beside my uncle’s casket,

in front of the grieving family.

I couldn’t.

Reality was suddenly far too real.

All my prayers for strength faltered,

as had my prayers for healing, earlier.

The best I could do was to stammer

a tearful thank you

and some faltering words

ending with

“Death. Does. Not. Win”

and run weeping back into the crowd.

 


 

And yet, if it weren’t for my tears at the graveside

“Death. Does. Not. Win!” would not have been

 


Friday, October 21, 2022

A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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