Rachel was smart,
And in university,
But didn't get to finish,
Her degree.

Her school,
Gave her an honorary one,
Which I believe,
She would,
Have gotten,
If she was alive,
As well.

I think,
That when,
I go to uni,
I'll be thinking,
Of Rachel.

Thinking...
Too much of that,
Is occurring,
Nowadays,
For my liking.

Reflecting,
Can be hazardous...
But can it not,
Also be good?

I feel,
That a layer,
Of grief,
Is being shed,
But my parents,
Have a long way to go.

What were they,
Those five stages?
Denial, anger,
Bargaining,
Depression,
And acceptance.

I'm at depression,
But my parents,
Are still in denial,
And there's proof.

I still see,
My parents,
Staring at the place,
Where Rachel,
Would've sat,
At dinner.

I see dad,
Going to Rachel's room,
To say a goodnight prayer,
Then lurching out the door,
As if stung,
When he realizes she's not there.

I've seen mom,
Pausing,
When she picks me up from school,
As if,
She's waiting,
For Rachel,
To pop out,
Of thin air.

I think...
I think they are slowly coming to grips with it,
And will soon move on to the stage of anger,
In fact,
I think it's already started...