I have begun to forget you
Your voice no longer wakes me up at night
The hope to see you when I come home after a long day has now faded
I don’t look for your face in the crowds any more.
Winter left along with you.
Spring and summer have bestowed bountiful on what was once barren
Today, flowers bloom on bare branches of yesterday
The pigeons have built their nest again in the crevice of our walls like before
Once again, life has emerged victorious over death.
I, too, have removed the old to make way for the new
I have emptied your closet and given away the few belongings that you had
“The world has so little”, I told myself; “How can we keep to serve our memory what others need to live their lives”?
I removed your photograph too – if you are not able to see me, what good is it that I see you?
People who come home for the first time see no signs that you lived here.
Yet sometimes, when I see dawn break in its myriad hues, I remember the first time we saw sunrise together from a plane
When your favourite song floats to my ears through the din of rush hour traffic, I remember the joy on your face as you would hum along with it
When I make tea on lazy Sunday afternoons, I sometimes mistakenly pour another cup thinking you are here.
And then, I struggle to close the floodgates of my eyes. All over again.
I have begun to forget you
But to forget you completely will take some more time. Perhaps a few lifetimes.
