THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM
 
When Kelsey died, we were surprised both by who did and who didn't make any kind of compassionate overture. For example, the Roto Rooter man, who stopped by once to clear a drain in our basement, sent a card. But several of our very best friends didn't even acknowledge her death at all. We know that their intent was to avoid discomfort and to protect us. What we really needed was to grieve with them. 

The following is a poem that seems appropriate for our circumstances. We took the liberty of adding Kelsey's name to the poem. We don't know for whom the poem was originally written. We hope the author isn't offended. 

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM 
By Terry Kettering 

There's an elephant in the room. It is large and squatting so it is
hard to get around it.
Yet we squeeze by with, "How are you?" And, "I'm fine"... 

And a thousand other forms of trivial chatter. We talk about
the weather
We talk about work. We talk about everything else ~
except the elephant in the room. 

There's an elephant in the room.
We all know it is there.
We are thinking about the elephant as we talk together.
It is constantly on our minds. 

For you see, it is a very big elephant. It has hurt us all.
But we do not talk about the elephant in the room.
Oh, please say her name.
Oh, please, say "Kelsey" again. 

Oh, please, let's talk about the elephant in the room.
For if we talk about her death, Perhaps we can talk about her life?
Can't I say "Kelsey" to you and not have you look away?
For if I cannot, then you are leaving me Alone...
In a room with an elephant.
 
 

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