Troubled Ramblings

Eight days,

Eight weeks,

Eight months,

Eight years,

I keep waiting for it to get easier

It hasn’t

I wait

For the numbness

To give way

I wait

For the full weight

Of the loss

I wait

For the hurting

To pass to the side

I wait

For the good memories

To push the pain away

You have been gone

Eight years, Dad

I keep waiting for it to get easier

It hasn’t.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

March 8, 2015