I take the plastic holy card out of my wallet.
I keep it tucked in there
between the other bits and pieces of my life
that I’m not sure what to do with.
There is a picture of St. Francis on the front,
The saint of peace and love.
The one I chose because in the end
I made all the choices.
I don’t look at it often.
Generally only on this day.
I feel the sadness and the tears come.
I don’t know why.
I have lost so many others
And I have no tears for them.
Maybe it’s because I was there
and saw the breath leave your body.
Or maybe I still grieve
what never was
and should have been.
I turn the card over.
On the back – a prayer.
“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”
I have made my peace with you
and that’s a blessing.
But the lost years of my life,
Ah, now that’s a different story.