Like It Is

When you are my age, the people, your fondest memories, die. Yes, they die and you are left and it isn't easy. Those at memorials spouting things like "well, it was for the best" or "he/she lived a long and fine life", are not what you believe, although you play along. That's what you're supposed to do at this age but let's not kid ourselves. Why don't we tell it like it is? When the people whom we played with and had great times with, those who knew all of our secrets and thoughts with no embellishments, die, we are plunged into deep sorrow.We are not happy or understanding or tolerant. The deaths consume us. We cry real tears. We sob. Yes, we bang our fists. But it doesn't bring our dear old pals back. Damn it. We loved these gone loves deeply and truly and no amount of platitudinous balderdash is going to defray us from what our true feelings are. The young gather about and pat us on the back and coo but it doesn't help.We aren't going to tell them, though. They'll find out one day. Our buddies grew young then old with us. They heard our bad times when things went wrong and they listened and didn't judge. They were there to celebrate and grieve with us, to laugh and cry with us. They knew what our times were and what it felt like then. It isn't now, it's all about then. Then had a certain colour and smell and voice. Our dear young ones can't possibly feel it. When we had our long ago friends around and we talked over old times or just sat together, we knew what it was truly like and we communicated it not always with words but with just being near each other.  We all knew where we came from and what the air was like then, the sounds around us then, the hurts and the successes, the hates, the loves, the agonies of that time and the joys of it, too. It isn't about remembering, it's about feeling. Others don't get it, not even our dear children, bless their hearts. They can't. They aren't the then, they are the now. We are supposed to be The Now but we aren't really.  One day their then will be a new then but now, today, when our friends and dear ones die, we are left and all we have is memories of our times together and it hurts. We weep. Let us weep. We miss them and our then.