Another Night of Insomnia

A family member reached out and shared this poem with me. It’s honest, raw, and deeply moving — and I felt it deserved its own place here.
Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is simply share the words.

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Another night of insomnia
I stare across the table
at your seat
and liken it
to a vault of silence;
a strange artifact
that someone has placed
in our home.

 

Sure, we’re still here in
this new version of the holidays,
but none will ever be the same
without your laughter
to lift away
life’s worries.

 

“Maybe never being the same
could be a
good thing,”
they tell me,
never themselves feeling
like a home
destroyed
in a hurricane.

 

I’m restless
so I start the car
and drive the long way
to the Circle K
just talking to you.

 

I quickly run in to grab
our favourite late night snacks,
only to come back to an
empty car
and a dead battery.

 

Every holiday,
we go through the motions:
we pray,
we feast,
we exchange gifts;
desperately coveting
that last Christmas
with you.

 

Afterwards, the children go home,
we ready ourselves for bed,
and I drift in and out
of sleep,
hoping to be woken up
by you knocking at the door.

 

The more years that pass
the  harder   it gets
to not know
what you would have
accomplished
that year.

 

I often wonder
when you would have married her,
how many children you would have had,
and where your dreams would have
taken you
and your family.

 

And on the day
that it’s my turn
to pass into the next world,
I hope you’ll be there
waiting
for me
so we can live together
once again.

 

— Written by Nat Lesage