Poem: Cradle Hold

His words breathe shadows into me
They surround, smother, sadden me
An ache arises in my chest
A cry escapes within a breath
I linger, listening to the death
Of recent hopes and dreams

I fold into myself and sob
As fears and losses form a mob
I summon then a thought of you
A simple thing you used to do
You'd fold me in your arms so tight
That though I'd squirm with all my might
And laugh and pull tricks on you so
You, smiling, wouldn't let me go.

You told me once the best of things
Given to man and woman brings
Us to be held within the dark
Until the rising of the lark
So, safe within each other's arms
Two weather all the earthly harms
And turn the nightly terrors round
To be where solace may be found

I need a comfort in the deep
Two arms to hold me while I sleep
A shoulder where I press my head
And kiss my eyes, so wet and red
But, curled and weeping on the bed
Alone is all I'll be

Sometimes, when things really, seriously suck, my mind retreats not just into imagined conversations but into comforting old memories.  I like to wrestle and spar even though I'm not terribly good at it.  When I used to wrestle with Jeff, one of the things he was either very good at or I was very bad at avoiding was a cradle hold.  After some struggle to keep him from closing it, I would be nearly immobilized but entirely wrapped in his arms and suddenly I would feel very very safe.  And nervous too, because I hate being helpless, but kind of in a good way.  That was the memory I went to today as I listened to my father tell me that a man I respect told him that I shouldn't become a teacher because I have none of the needed managerial skills.

It's things like this, the defenses against pain that are rooted deeply into memories of Jeff, that are the most tenacious of all the ways he is in my mind.  Because they work.  Because as much as thinking about him can be wrenching, it can also be delirium-inducing, making my mind as permeable as a cloud so the knives find no real purchase.  Like morphine, it can leave me without pain, and the mind loves what guards it against pain.

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With that said, there's little that can't be softened with good music, an only slightly dangerous walk at night, and discovering that Bill Bailey is going to be on Doctor Who.  But I'm still up at 3 in the morning because my mind won't quiet.