choosing

Amidst a deep and messy grief,

I choose gratitude.

Beneath the rubble

and debris,

and shattered ties unbinding,

I choose peace.

After all the pomp

and the circumstance,

and the moments

when time stands still,

air so quiet I can hear my heart beat

in my chest,

the air slowly exiting from my lungs,

the ground move and quake

under my feet,

I choose vulnerability.

In this moment,

I am present,

and conscious,

and breathing,

and free.

I am centered,

grounded,

feeling what it means

to feel.

Feeling what it means

to grieve.

I open my eyes

each morning,

dreading another sunrise

over the truth,

that you’ve transitioned.

Then, I swing my legs over

the edge of my resting place.

I press my feet

deeply into the earth,

beckoning your energy

to make my toes into roots,

my legs into branches,

and my body a powerful

edifice to the woman you were.

The woman you are.

The woman you made me.

So, I choose to be grateful,

at peace,

vulnerable,

present,

centered,

grounded.

And, after this moment’s after,

and even after that,

I will continue to choose

me.

I choose me.

Ase.

Thank you, Grandma.

-Jenn M. Jackson