One year after my death

One year after my death

I will still be sitting on my cloud

(my cloud has my name on it with a neon sign,

that’s how I know, arriving in heaven, that it is my personal cloud)

looking down to that place I came from,

and I will be missing everything.

Most of all I will be missing my girls

and I really do not want to go into this

because I am not even sick or something, I will not die soon, probably,

but I still could cry my eyes out thinking about how much I will miss them.

I can get worked up right here and now about this!

Thinking about how much I will still miss them

one year after my death – the thought alone is killing me.

This is ridiculous.

One year after my death

I will miss all the times I laughed

and could still laugh, if still alive.

I wonder: do dead people laugh at all?

I mean this hysterical laughing,

this pee in your pants laughing

I share with my girlfriends and with my colleagues at the office?

One year after my death I will still miss my life,

because it was so alive and I like that about it – I do.

I will probably miss all those things I am bitching about

as a daily routine (one has to have some sort of routine)

I will miss them a lot: bad drivers, insurance companies,

my boss, my life as a housekeeper, dish washing, the daily cooking,

the standing in front of the aisles in the grocery store and wondering:

what the hell should I cook today? the knowledge that somebody at the table

will complain no matter what you cook, the laundry, the dusting,

the rain on my skin, the rain on my window, days in a row,

never ending rain, the melted dirty snow,

the dry air in the winter, that makes my skin wrinkle,

the fact that I am aging,

paying the bills, going to the dentist,

fights with my husband,

my mother, my reading glasses,

the fact that I will not be able to read all the books I want to read,

never having a minute for myself,

cleaning the cat’s litter box (yuck)

my job, looking for a parking space in our neighbourhood,

the summers in Germany,

the winters in Germany.

One year after my death I will still miss life.

Because it is so alive.

I like that about it

a lot!