When Annie was first gone
all I knew was the heartbreak of my loss,
I could see no gifts coming from this tragedy,
only a life of sorrow.
Later, I was immersed in her,
in people who cradled both of us
until I could truly see her life as a gift.
And now - much later and yet not so far away
I found that sometimes I forget
the significance of Annie,
the significance of her gifts
and I feel it necessary to replay the tragedy of her life,
and the tears flow and the questions reappear.
But then I see that
the significance of Annie
is not in the pain she has
forever embedded in my soul,
that the significance of Annie
is not in my never returning innocence,
is not in the yearly painful ritual
of saying hello and goodbye to her,
although these things will be with me always.
The significance of Annie
is in the desire she has given me
to be a better person, to treat life more gently,
to sort jewels from ashes,
to be compassionate, caring and sensitive
and to softly walk with others on their paths from pain to joy
and knowing that I cannot change the path I've already traveled with her,
I can live with the heartbreak of Annie's moment
because I know THAT moment is more significant than most.
