Haibun, Poem

Identical Grief Revisited: A Haibun

Written for dVerse Poets – Fancy
Meeting You At The Pub Today and
Saturday
. We are asked to share any
poem of our choosing. I am sharing
a haibun I wrote almost one year ago.
Since then, our feelings remain unchanged,

except now laughter comes a bit more easily.

© Mine
Bill (L) and Jim working on yet another crossword puzzle

Tomorrow will be 4 months since my husband’s identical twin brother died suddenly. His wife returned home from a walk and found him on the bedroom floor; she said he was still warm. The news felt like an arrow ripped through our hearts. Jim was dead. How was my sister-in-law ever again going to walk into her bedroom without picturing her husband’s body? How was my husband Bill going to face the rest of his life as the lone twin? At one time there were three brothers; now there is only Bill. This is the most difficult trial for him. My husband lost a piece of himself that day. We are numb, disbelieving, questioning, dazed, numb, numb, so unbelievably numb.

You know how people say that time flies? Not when it comes to Jim; time has stopped for us. Logically we know he’s dead but our hearts cannot accept it. It’s unbelievable, inconceivable for us. It doesn’t feel possible. We function normally every day, do the same old crap, talk and eat and laugh. We watch movies, go shopping, pay bills, gab on the phone, babysit. We live the same lives we lived before Jim died except he’s not here to share them and we cannot wrap our heads around that. It just doesn’t feel like he’s dead. He should be here. It’s not right that he’s not here. It’s like someone has played the cruelest joke on us.

Now, when my sister-in-law looks at Bill, it’s Jim’s face she sees. And sometimes when I look at my husband, I see Jim and I find myself wondering why Jim was the twin who was taken.

I am Bill’s wife but Jim was his other half.

save them in your heart
golden summer memories
for when winter comes

© Mine
City Island, The Bronx, NY circa 1950
Impossible to tell who’s who!

NAR©2024
April 2, 2025 will be one year since Jim’s death.

This is “Comfortably Numb” by David Gilmour Live in Pompeii

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for Nancy’s Notes 🖊️🎶, The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk, The Rhythm Section, et. al., and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

53 thoughts on “Identical Grief Revisited: A Haibun”

  1. This is so sad, Nancy. I remember you had shared it earlier too, but I can read your feelings in this lovely tribute. Love and hugs to you, Nancy 💕💕💕

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A beautiful write with beautiful illustrations. The haiku is perfect for it. I suspect I’ve been “touched” by your poem even more than most….because although my huband’s brother is not a twin, he’s 85 and 7 years older than my husband, he’s suddenly developed a blood infection and is hospitalized with the prognosis unknown. Memories…..keep making memories…..life changes but love stays strong. I would think it’s even harder when an identical twin is lost. My heart goes out to you, your husband, and his brother’s wife. Thank you for posting.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s awful news about your husband’s brother; heartfelt wishes the doctors can get a grip on that infection and restore him to good health.
      This has been a surreal year for us and I’ve watched my husband age a bit. He and Jim were together in the womb, best friends throughout their lives. The news was impossible to grasp and we still can’t wrap our heads around it. Sudden, out-of-the-blue loss; I think some of us are still slightly in shock, if that’s possible. Thankfully, we are able to laugh again and our grandchildren are the best medicine. Still, a part of my husband was lost and there’s a little light missing from his eyes.
      Best wishes, Lillian. I truly appreciate you sharing your thoughts. Thank you.

      Like

  3. Oh Nancy! This touched my heart. It’s sad to come to the reality of losing such a very important person in one’s life. Such a heartfelt tribute to Bill’s twin brother, Jimmy. May his soul live in peace forever.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. A lovely tribute Nancy. I remember your original post on your loss. Hard to believe it’s almost a year ago.
    We never know what is round the corner. Life and time spent together is precious. Embrace the memories.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. I think of my dad when lilacs open–he said they were his favorite–and my mom when I stir the chocolate chip sourdough banana bread batter, or knead a batch of sourdough challah. She’d eat those when she refused everything else (until the very end).

    Liked by 3 people

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