Dear Rebecca,

Death sucks. I keep hoping that the rules will changes and we'll get people back, and it keeps not happening. I've lost a fair number of loved ones, but never with the terrible uncertainty, the not-knowing that you describe. I'm so sorry.

I hope it isn't out of place if I post a poem I wrote over ten years ago now about a death that was especially hard for me. Maybe you'll relate.

After Death

Since you died, I have woken every day.
That has been the hardest part, because
Always, you have to be deadened again --
Not killed, but given back to death.
I smother the hopeful sense
That clings to me from sleep.
I send you back across, or cross myself
That black circling river around the dream.

This is only a matter of seconds.
Then the day proceeds.
That is the real work of the day.
The rest, routine.

I wish you healing, however that comes for you. Thank you for your poem. from Another Rebecca.