My Rock

I've always been so strong.

Always been the rock, the support beam for
everyone to lean on.

But you were my rock that day.

And I stood there with a straight back
offered my beam with dry eyes and
a sympathetic smile.

They didn't see my hand holding yours -
grasping so tightly my knuckles were white or
how I held onto your arm so tightly on the way
to the car for fear of falling down.

They just saw me - strong and supportive and
wondered how I was pulling it off.

They didn't know.

You were my rock that day.