For Anne, on her birthday, August 22, 2026
Anne, on this day that still belongs to your light,
I speak your name softly into the morning.
You were kindness moving quietly through a room,
a gentle creature of warmth, patience, and love.
Brain cancer came like an implacable adversary,
without mercy, without pause, without regard.
It felled what seemed too tender to be taken,
and left me standing where your laughter used to be.
Now there is a gaping wound in the shape of you,
an emptiness that echoes down every hall.
Yet your love remains – small flame, steady star –
teaching my grief how to remember you.
If you feel like reading more about Anne’s cancer journey, I’ve chronicled it in prose and poetry here:
https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/news/
