They knocked the door at four AM.
Police, a man, a woman
“May we come in?”
I knew before they said his name,
it’s been too long since last
goodbyes was said in absence.
Confirmation always carry uniform.
I remember how the Christmas Tree
was black that year,
and the Tsunami.
This is based on a true memory. On the morning of Christmas Eve 2004 the police came to inform us that my father in law had been found dead in his home. We have not had a Christmas tree since then.
Linking up to Tuesday platform @toads, since it’s 55 words I also link to hedge this week.
February 11, 2018
oh, that’s sad. That’s a hard way to find out.
(my likes aren’t sticking today. No clue why. I also put a like on the poem — although it’s hard to put like for something that’s sad. Maybe the button should say “appreciate”. If you don’t see the like, it didn’t stick. I noticed it didn’t stick on the cloud poem that I read earlier)
That it a hard one. Was it the year of the Tsunami in Thailand or Japan. I think the Thai one was at Christmas if I remember correctly. Loss is hard under normal circumstances but like that…ouch.
It was the year for the Thailand Tsunami… and so many countrymen died in in those waves. Sweden had actually the highest deathtoll per capita in that disaster. So I had friends and colleagues affected
I am so sorry for this loss and pain. Thank you for sharing it.
It felt like many opportunities lost… but somehow the shock of being waked by the police overwhelmed the whole thing.
I am so sorry for your loss, Bjorn 😦 It’s not easy bearing the burden of such news and that too near Christmas.
Those kind of memories are hardest when surround by holiday celebrations. You’ve expressed it well.
This gave me chill bumps.
The foreboding grips you from the very beginning. That sort of knocking is never good. Well, almost never. And the gloomy tree in the end makes it all more dreadful.
Powerfully written. You convey both grief and shock.
That is a painful memory and the way you’ve tagged it with the tsunami and christmas is such an expression of that grief….
Festivals always carry the sad reminder of those who are no longer there to celebrate with the family. Loss falls hard at certain times of the year.
A broken tree stump is so symbolic of the loss and sadness that would result. You’ve a way of presentation, Bjorn, always!
This is sad, Bjorn. Especially with the addition of your footnote. I do hope that again soon you will find some joy in Christmas, perhaps commemorated and renewed with an honor to your FIL.
Bless you guys, a daughter’s love for her father is powerful, his life deserves celebration. Mrs. Jim also reminds me of the date of her father’s death when it comes. It isn’t a holiday or a special day except to us and her sister and hers. God made us to outlive our parents.
Oh, what a painful memory. A broken stump, a life cut down, leaves us splintered.
This is a poem of memory that reads like a dream, and such moments do have a dream/nightmare quality to them, where one waits to wake up, but doesn’t. I feel your tsunami, Bjorn, in more ways than one. Thanks for sharing this with the 55.
How sad the memory that writes your words Björn.
Loss of a loved one is always painful, but especially so around the Christmas period when we expect nothing but happiness.
The celebration always impacts on our memories after…