It’s dark and I’m lonely and I’m feeling desperate to hear my son’s voice. Searching for answers, I turn to Google with the query: the voice of my dead son. A page of results appears with links to mothers who have “channeled” their children in the afterlife.
I suddenly realized: I was looking for poetry to comfort me, as words always have. Down at the bottom of the page were a set of words reflecting my lived experience. Look, feel the depths of my grief in a search engine hit list:
I know I must live with this pain, but I can’t fathom how I will manage it. The thought of another year without Roger is so hard to bear. I can imagine other mothers, like myself, lonely and searching for answers to the question, “why.” But Google has no answers for the questions that really matter.