Missing Matthew.

He isn’t in pain anymore,

his body left behind,

soul freed to wander,

to explore places I can only imagine—

maybe meeting Michael Jackson, his favourite singer.

maybe finding his dad,

or Nana Coles, waiting with love

beyond this world.

In the morning, I catch myself,

almost thinking he’s still here,

but he’s slipped out of reach,

no longer bound to the weight of this place

where pain loops like the news,

an endless reel.

At night, when I close my eyes,

I need to see him whole, spirit-clear,

no longer tethered,

just light and movement,

released.

And here I am,

the world somehow emptier,

yet open—

a space for me to step forward,

to feel the edges of my own freedom

shaped by his courage,

as if he’s whispering, “Go on.”

And maybe now,

with a piece of him still beside me,

I’ll find a way to live,

to honor him by moving, breathing,

and letting life in, moving forward.

Wendi 10/11/24