Bereft II

I’m 37 and this is the first of many to come. That’s how I feel this loss has left me reeling. There is the life before Ma. Which almost seems childish. Irrelevant. And the life after Ma. That feels at times interminable. The long length of time before my own time is up. Then there are moments when I try to focus on what’s left. What matters. Family, child, father. Retreating. Love. But then there are also times when it all seems pointless. I feel anger and frustration. I even feel angry with Ma for leaving me unprepared. At life, for taking away the joy. There’s solace. There’s calm. There’s rage and there is sadness. But there’s no joy. If there is there are traces. I don’t remember.