BEHIND A SMILE

BEHIND A SMILE

 

Someone asked me...

Just today...

How I am doing

Since he went away

 

I said I'm okay...

That I'm doing just fine..

That I'm holding up well...

And time is flying by

 

She said I really look good..

And how strong I must be...

How I pulled it together...

She was real proud of me

 

I didn't let on...

There was no way she could see

All the pain and the sorrow....

I hold inside of me

 

We laughed for a bit...

I put on a smile...

Made lots of small talk...

And all the while

 

I was silently crying...

For missing him so...

I was screaming inside...

I wished he didn't go

 

But I didn't let on...

My grief I hid...

Behind a smile...

Yes, that's what I did

 

We said our goodbyes...

And we parted ways...

I took a deep breath...

Thought back on that day

 

I felt my eyes swelling...

I blinked the tears away...

I have to keep going...

God help me I pray

 

I'll be with him soon...

Though I don't know when...

I just have to believe...

I will see him again

 

Another deep breath..

Put the smile back on...

Just get through the day...

That is who I've become

 

 

By Gwendy Vanucci

About the Author
I am a mother of 3... Minus one... Oh I hate the math part. My 20 year old Tommy, passed away in his sleep in his room on 3-30-09. Since then I have been struggling with grief...and I needed to deal with it. I grieved out loud...with words. I write poems on grief. If you liked the poem you just read, and would like to read more of my work, I have 3 books available at LULU.COM just look up my name GWENDY VANUCCI. I'm not out to make money off my sons death... I am out to help parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends...deal with the grief they feel. Grief is a normal healing process that we all go though. My journey with grief and my poems are a very raw look at all the stages we go through to hopefully feel whole again. I guess I have to keep writing, cause it's going on six years since my son passed, and it's hard to feel whole with a hole in my chest.
I'm Grieving, Now What?