I wanted it to mean, "Please don't let me lose you now. Please don't let this be one more loss. Please tell me how to make it go away."
Again, "But what did you really have? What is it, exactly, that you feel you lost?"
And I was wounded by the silence.
And I was angered by the question. What did I lose? What did I lose!
Not just a mother, a father, a friend, a father, a mother, a mother, a friend....
Not just a confidant, a dream, someone to teach me, someone to hold me, someone to love my babies and teach me to love them well...
Not just a place to rest, a place to be allowed, a place to sleep sweet in peace, just once.
Not just dreams, and tears, and hopes, and fears.
Not just days of weeping and years of trying and months of aching and years of crying.
Not just a piano and an embrace.
A heritage and a story, the treasure of a secret.
Wishes, dreams. Effort. Love. Forgiveness. Service. Foolishness. Gifts.
My own pearls, thrown down like treasure to be churned in the bitter mud.
The most sacred things I had to offer, scorned because they looked like weakness and want.
Not a list of happy things. So, I wonder...
What did I lose?
More - if what was lost was never real...how could it hurt so much?
How could something that never really happened, that was not promised and given to me during daylight, hurt so much at night?
How does a dream cause pain to a physical heart, and how does a wish and a thought and an imagination cause real tears, real human tears raining down a human face and swelling human eyes with sorrow?