The 5:25 am train left the station on time.
It’s wooden and metal bones creaked, showing the signs of age and the burden of carrying it’s many passengers.
I was charmed at first sight.
Inside, it was still, quiet at this time of the morning.
As I sat in the dining car at the white linen covered table, sipping my Czech coffee,
I watched the sun rise turning from purple to pink, red & orange,
Over the Hungarian, then Slovakian Landscape.
Prague is the most beautiful city, in the classical sense.
All spires and cobblestone.
The sun sparkled off the river running through the city.
Couples kissed by the water.
And I was in pain.
I woke the first morning in this beautiful city to news of my Grandmother passing.
To be so far from my home, and everyone I deeply love,
And to be alone, really alone.
And to sit with the knowledge that I will never again
hear her throaty laugh
see her vast toothy grin
touch her warm, soft, tissue paper skin.
Why do we long to be held by people so badly,
when we know they can never hold us again?
And can anyone tell me.
does the pain ever go away?
I was lost.
So I wandered and I wondered.
I didn’t try to make sense.
I just stayed with myself
and my thoughts.