The images of those we have lost remain etched in our minds of how they were, not how they would be if they had not gone away. 💔
#Memories #GriefMatters #JustBelieve #HopeLives #LoveChangesPeople #Poetry
#Memories #GriefMatters #JustBelieve #HopeLives #LoveChangesPeople #Poetry
#JustBelieve #HopeLives #LoveChangesPeople
The young girl that I long ago wed
Promising to love and cherish
Until death do us part
There was truth in those words I said
The young girl I held safe in my arms
When she cried from hurt
While our love grew
I attempted to shield her from harm
The young girl who held nothing back
We feasted on love and lust
Unaware fate conspired
To cleave two souls and fade to black
The young girl who endured the pain
Of the cancerous disease that arose
A future uncertain
And rarely did she ever complain
The young girl in a faithful anguish
Moments of joy midst affliction
As her star began to fade
A beautiful life now left to languish
The young girl I gently held her hand
Watching as life slowly slipped away
Until her last breath
And it was all I could do to stand
The young girl I gently closed her eyes
No more sight and nothing to see
Worlds she now explores
With eyes that went blank when she died
The young girl from who I slowly turned away
My heart beat loud as I silently wept
The long walk leaving behind
Every dream gone and I could not stay
The young girl is now just a lifeless shell
All the memories a distant reverie
My heart now shattered
Knowing that I have entered hell
The young girl lies tranquil in a wooden box
All prettied up in peaceful repose
Her struggle now done
A life put away in a human breadbox
The young girl lay for everyone to see
A lifeless corpse is all that is left
My strength now gone
Sitting front and center is killing me
The young girl lies while they all file past
Alone I stare into the dark void
My hopes now taken
The answer was no to each prayer I asked
The young girl towards her I slowly reach out
Placing a single red rose upon her chest
Those red lips I kissed
They are cold and stiff she is gone no doubt
The young girl to ashes and dust she returns
The small container I must carry away
Life’s arc from birth to death
In the light of time she will forever burn
The young girl I take over land and sea afar
To a place where the waters are alive
Calling forth another life
A dance beckons journeying to the stars
The young girl now flies free in the slipstream
Her ashes spread to eternities embrace
Promises kept of a dying wish
Into the undiscovered now just a dream
The young girl who left me a wandering nomad
I carry hope of once and a future again
I chose the reality of love
And the young girl who drove me mad
Death and grief; you accept it, you learn to live with it and you go on, but you never get over it. I know this all too well from my own experiences over the last twenty-five years. This poem came to me late one night before drifting off and I wrote it down the next day with very little editing. I still remember so much as if it happened yesterday and it is the smallest of things that my memories fixate on and my mind sees with a surreal clarity.
Thanks for reading and just believe that hope lives. ~M
I wrote this post with tears behind my eyes. Although they were wide open I squeezed them tight so that no one can see and nothing leaks out that would give away my feelings. Yes, I am hiding, but also writing. A frenzy of emotional free writing.
I am angry! I am sad! I am frustrated and …
My stomach is in knots, my muscles are tense. I feel the passion surging inside of me and I am afraid of it spilling out into a fit of rage. While my mind spins with questions that have no answers, for I long ago learned there are none.
Triggers come in all sorts of ways. A voice, a song, a memory, a word.
Maybe it’s just me as I read posts on social media encouraging others to ‘copy and paste’ in honor or remembrance of something or someone. Especially in honor of someone who is battling or has lost a battle with cancer with the hashtag #cancersucks or something.
This is my story, my reality and my life.
I lost someone to cancer many years ago and yes cancer sucks. Not a day goes by that something doesn’t remind me of her. When she died, she left a hole in my heart. I watched the traditional treatments wreck and devastate her body, mind and spirit. And in the end, it did nothing to prolong her life nor improve the quality of her life.
So, yes, I am jaded.
My experience may be vastly different from others. Yet, this is my story, not theirs and this is my voice that is screaming in the silence of unanswered questions. Nighttime skies as dark as death where stars twinkle on unconcerned and the cold vastness reveals no measure of comfort to assuage my pain and longing.
Posting in honor of someone, does nothing. Really, that’s the best you can do?
Be careful with your words, your images, your pictures and posts you share. Everyone experiences things differently. Triggers! No two people experience life in exactly the same way. There is no comfort in false words of hope and solace. We toss around platitudes like confetti in the wind, left to fall and be carried where they will. With no thought of those on the receiving end, intentional or not, will catch the true meaning of our hearts.
Yes, I am bitter. Yes, I am … hell I don’t know what I am.
I do know that I am strong and this will not defeat me. I will bang a drum for those we have lost and never assume to understand someone else’s experience and pain. For I never would expect the two to be the same. #JustBelieve #HopeLives
We carry the pain, the heartache and the loneliness of choices not taken and decisions gone wrong. However, we made the best decision we could at the time.
Let it go, do not drag the weight of regret through your life. Do what you can, no matter how small, and know that in the end that is enough.
And remember > You are enough!
We have all made promises to do this or that. Promises we swore we would keep forever.
In the end forever comes and goes.
We are left alone, holding onto the empty promises made by others. Or perhaps we broke our own promises with our own hands.
Either way, I believe the question remains that haunts each of us.
Will you remember me?
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