I originally published a version of this article for The Open to Hope Foundation (www.opentohope.com) on July 24,2014 following my return from the national conference of the Compassionate Friends in Chicago. I recently found myself drawn to this piece, probably because this year’s Compassionate Friends national conference is drawing near.
When I see the grief in the eyes of parents who have lost children,
I see a sea of love held back and unable to reach it's shore.
I don't know about you but I feel as though I have been kidnapped and held by grief. It will be 1 year and 6 months soon. To be held this long in the depths of sorrow seems like a hi-jacking gone terribly wrong. I have to remind myself that my feet are not bound, I can walk outside, my face is not covered, I can smile, my mouth is not gagged, I can speak, my eyes are not blind, I can see.
Drifting .....
Like a boat
Drifting .....Drifting .....
Out in the middle of the ocean
Drifting .....Drifting .....
Barely existing
Drifting .....Drifting .....
All alone I float
Drifting .....Drifting .....
This old boat has a few hole's
Drifting .....Drifting .....
I barely stay a float
Drifting .....Drifting .....
How do I over come this sadness within or begin to laugh again?
I dread each day, there's nothing there.
I find it hard to even care.
I only have pictures now
A frozen memory in time.
They remind me of how it was when you were here
and things were fine
My friends all tell me I'll be alright
I will have to pretend the rest of my life
Unexpected Allies
A soggy battlefield seethed inside me. Regret waged war against reason. Apathy pitted itself against responsibility. Fragility fumed against strength. Fear cowered before courage.
Our last Sunday:
