Does Grief Die?

Last week, I learned a friend died. 
I know why she didn’t tell
Anyone outside her family
She was succumbing to cancer. 

Why would we want others
To mourn us while living?

I search, have misplaced
My sadness at her passing.
Facing death, I’m not surprised
When someone proceeds me. 

Am I shocked out,
Dead to tragedy?
If I cry for her,
Will I keep crying for me? 

I’m sure that when those
Most close to me depart
I again will find grief clawing.
Still, death seems less crushing. 

Mortality doesn’t take away loved ones
But transcends us into our truest selves,
The closer we are to the glass door of death
The freer we are to cornerstone live. 

Should I outlive my parents
I will rejoice in tearful thirst
Knowing they didn’t quit
Mourning their youngest. 

The definition of death
Has turned on its fuzzed head,
I no longer draw lines where life ends
And where grief begins.

©️ 2024 Laura E. Garrard

Laura E. Garrard is a multiple myeloma thriver and published author living in the Northwest. Her poetry and prose have appeared in journals like The Madrona Project, Amethyst, Silver Birch, TulipTree Review, and others.