A Time For Blackberries

The blackberries come too soon this summer, as does your death's anniversary. Time is such a funny and weighty thing. As I sit in front of this headstone, so foolishly attempting to tell your life's story to strangers and passers-by, all of us inquire of your full tale; I think of you, inclement and hypocritical Earth, supporting the feet, then swallowing the souls of all men. In my solitude, I ponder time. The time that binds all things is the very thing that separates us. It is time that sees and helps shape us so slowly; and I have not allowed myself adequate time for grievance. My pain is felt and dealt differently. At your passing, it was my time for shock and strength; but with my mourning is accompanied somber wisdom. My tears won't dissolve or dilute my resolve. I don't know whether to feel the silly schoolgirl or the melancholy adult. I feel as in the middle of an exam; you have completed your test and are merely waiting patiently for me to finish mine. In other moments, I sense your painful absence as I would miss the life-giving air, suffocating me in my misery. Time; there is a time for everything; some are inexpedient and ill-advised under this sun; perfect execution isn't always most skilled, only that which is God-willed. So, do we mourn for them, or ourselves?

Now is my time; my time for pensiveness; my time to allow the sadness to wash over me as the crashing waves. I know what is coming; I brace myself and embrace the icy sting. The coward flees in the sight of emotion; but by ignoring and running from feeling, all their fears are laid bare. In this time I will look to you, and in example; walking with comfortable, confident ambience, hands folded behind your back, and head always forward. As you lead me, you lead me also to what you've tried telling us these past years: Your courage, not your fears, are shown in you tears.

A year in its entirety has passed through the doors of life and into the halls of remembrance. Now is the time; now is my time. A time for grief, and giving thanks; a time for jealousy and joy; a time for helplessness and a time for hopefulness.

This is a time for blackberries.

Any review would be greatly appreciated, as this is very deep and personal. I love to know what people think of what I write. It inspires me greatly. Thank you!