Over the past seven years, I have had to say a final goodbye to four beloved people and four cherished pets. Life is made of moments . . . impermanent, imperfect, and wondrous, slipping away inevitably.
Yet, it is in these moments that we find the essence of existence, embracing both sorrow and joy on this fragile yet beautiful journey through time.
I lost my mom to cancer, my grandparents, who were my parental figures in many ways, and more recently, my best friend. It still hurts. Waves of sadness come and go, but they don’t overwhelm me the way they once did. Grief never disappears, but we learn to live alongside it. We adapt to its presence while continuing with our lives, because we’re still here, and that, in itself, is something worth treasuring.
If you’ve lost someone recently, know this: the sharp, unbearable pain will loosen its grip if you allow it to move through you freely. Time alone doesn’t heal. It’s the gentle acceptance of what is that opens the door to healing.
One, two, three, four.
Family dinners,
celebrations.
Friday nights, movie nights
kitchen, milk and cookies.
Two pairs of parents
who raised me, an only child.
One is long gone.
Two, three, four
followed
one after another.
No time to feel
No time to notice
No time to heal
Silent kitchen,
lonely Fridays,
quiet celebrations.
Uncrowded.
One, two, three,
four youngsters
in their forties
and teen years
followed
a new life.
© 2025 Natalie Kaminsky
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