Haiku about My Nephew, Oliver

It's been two weeks since my beautiful nephew died. One week since his funeral. I recognize that I am trying to accept this new sadness, this addition to myself I have to agree to live with. It is becoming a part of who I call "me." Two weeks without Oliver physically with us. The sadness at times is immense.

And yet, I found myself singing in the shower this evening. It's been a long time since I've done that. A very long time.  And I ask, how? How can we live with it? To live with "losing" our Oliver. To live with only being allowed to see him in our minds' eyes and in the hundreds of still pictures. It is not enough, will never be enough. We ache to touch him, and to hear his voice, and to have his eyes meet ours. What a surprise it was when I heard my own voice singing. It seems impossible that I was singing in the shower. What a content thing to do. The words to this song that we sang often at mass when I was a child was coming out of my mouth as I poured conditioner into the palm of my hand. And I felt that it will be alright. Even with this heavy addition to my emotional map.

Tonight, I write a haiku, inspired by my dear little nephew, Oliver, whose acknowledgement of his happiness and whose joy of living in the moment has become something I admire and will strive to do often, regardless of what has  happened and what may be coming around the corner.

Yesterday is done.

Don't fret about Tomorrow.

Right Now is what counts.