The Wall

I went to a family gathering and felt like an outsider in my own bloodline. Everybody was nice. Nobody did anything wrong. That’s almost what makes it worse. It’s not that people are cruel. It’s that they still belong to a life structure I no longer fit into. Couples talking in shorthand. Shared glances. Inside jokes. Small negotiations about kids and food and plans. The invisible teamwork of ordinary partnership. I used to be fluent in that language. Now I’m just standing there with a plate trying not to look like the ghost at the cookout. I laughed at something, and then later one of my kids said it was the first time they’d seen me smile in a long time. That one landed like a brick. Because I knew I’d changed. I just didn’t realize it had become visible enough for the kids to track it. Apparently grief has a face. Apparently mine has been wearing it full-time. So yeah, family gatherings are weird. You’re surrounded by people and somehow still feel exiled from the life you used to have.