moments without

losses diminish

every loss is unique,

and every loss is also the same

for I am diminished

by each who is not here any more—

to talk with me,

to laugh with me,

to share a moment

that can then become a better moment,

I miss my father

who a heart attack abruptly erased

from my present, and thus my future,

I miss my brother

who cancer quickly carried away from me,

I miss my mother

who Alzheimer’s stole from me

piece by piece over a decade,

I miss my nephew

whose fall took him away from us,

I miss my wife’s sister

who cancer and heart loss stilled her grandmother’s joy,

I miss family and friends and former students

who have passed away,

and left me here, diminished by their absence,

and gifted by the presence of their memory

which still informs who I am,

I strive for loss to be a sculptor

who takes away from the block

and reveals a shape within that can be even more right,

I wonder also when I will crack

from the thinness left from all the carving.

by Henry H. Walker
April 11, ’15