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  • Cynthia Coupe

1 Month of Grief

Updated: May 5, 2022

February 8th, 2022:

Yesterday marked 1 month since Frank Menhams month. It feels like a decade; it feels like yesterday. I still have no words, but I go through the routine, take time for myself...look for him in a ray of light, the presence of an animal. He's here; he's there.

His shirts smell less like he was just in them, and that's painful.

I realize, losing my partner in life, at the age I am (47) is a whole different thing than if I were older...I have years to go in the fields of work and parenting, self-growth and exploration. I am no longer who I was, in relationship with Frank, and I'm not yet who I am going to be.

There is too much to say, too much to think, to get it all down here, so I'll leave you with something I found in Frank's things last night. I don't know when he wrote it, maybe in the '80's? It was in a box of poetry from that time period.

FRANK'S EPITAPH Don't worry about me, I just moved out of the neighborhood. And I can assure you that we'll meet along the road someday. So laugh and play amongst your friends and family. Yea tis a high road, but I trained for a lifetime to take it. So please, worry not, about me. Take comfort in that you'll be following me-- at some point yet to pass, and most assuredly we'll meet on the road after some length...

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