Breakfast with Sue

My sister needs help, she's confined to her thoughts
She fails to see kindness wherever it's brought
Alone in her thinking, with only her view
How do I reach her, what's a little sister to do

We meet at the restaurant engage in conversation
But it soon takes a turn sparking her aggravation
I said something to which she does not agree
She stares intently just glaring at me

More coffee, more water, no thank you we're done
What was I thinking my sister lacks fun
Check please and hurry, just so much to do
This was my breakfast with my sister Sue

She'd rather be right no matter the cost
But I'm grown too, she's no longer my boss
I'll check with her later, see if she's free
I long for the closeness of my sister and me

Poems from the dark

In the late 70's early 80's I found myself stumbling in the dark. The twelve year old me rose up and refused to allow the twenty something me not notice the little girl that never felt loved or comforted all those years ago. In her pain she screamed silently and begged for my attention and affection. I tried to write my thoughts and feelings as my counselling progressed. As you read these please know, this is not who I am today but where I've been and how I came to be me. I had to reconnect with a past that I'd much rather forget. All for the love of the little girl in me. Today she and I are both stronger and live in harmony. We have no secrets.

I tried to write my thoughts and feelings as my counselling progressed. These I have selected to share.

Insecure

Sometimes when I'm near you I break out in a sweat

I feel your dissatisfaction, I hope to pass the test

The closeness feels so distant, you vanish in thin air

I feel the need to touch you, to be certain you're still there

But I'm afraid it would scare you, to see me be that way

So I hope for tomorrow to be a better day

Prison

I live in my prison that I have built for me
The walls are very tall, it's hard for me to see
There are people on the outside, I don't know their names
But I can hear them laughing, talking and playing games
It's lonely in my prison so sometimes I want out
But the people are too noisy, they don't hear my shouts

Tomorrow

How can it be . . . that I am still alive

Where did it come from . . . the will to survive

No one tried to reach me those years I was lost

Still I had to have tomorrow no matter what the cost

I kept on searching, for what I still don't know

But I have hope to find it, so tomorrow here I go!

So Far ~ So Near

I don't know why I drink, it doesn't make me better

But when I'm in a daze, I think I'm all together

Then I can relax and forget about the past

But when I sober up it comes to me too fast

I start to feel sorry for me and those I've touched

I long to go back, before it hurt so much

The hurts turn to anger, the anger to fear

Then I'm confused, so far and so near

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend for you

I'm sorry that I'm never sure of what I should do

I'm sorry I can't take away all the times you've seen me cry

I'm sorry I haven't an answer for all your wheres and whys

I'm sorry that you see me when I'm down and out

And when you say you love me I still have some doubts

I'm sorry I'm not the mountain that I wanted you to see

I'm sorry I'm not to you what you are to me

Friends

Cigarettes and coffee, thinking of you

And all the bad times that you helped me thru

You heard every heartbeat, you didn't blink an eye

It didn't seem to matter, but I still wonder why

You stayed with me to listen, you heard every word

You hoped that I'd feel better, to finally be cured

My life has been so stormy, I've felt things much too strong

But I have you to lean on, you make things not so wrong

Forget It

OK, I'm fine, forget it

I'll leave it behind

It doesn't matter who did it

I've already done the time

Now it's time to grow

To be alive again

I'll take it slow

And remember to bend

I won't dwell on the past

I'll just forge ahead

And I hope it lasts

The words I just said

Rainbows Are Rare

I believe it's hopeless, life is a waste of time

Everybody's hurting, the world is so unkind

What is the purpose to live another day

Is it another chance to find a better way

The storms come too often, rainbows are rare

Survival of the fittest - or for those who dare

Could one person make a difference in this life we live

Isn't it required for everyone to give

And for those who don't, what do they take

Whose life do they touch, whose heart do they break

What happens to broken people - where do they turn

Who feeds the fire - who watches them burn

When they're used up and choking from the smoke

Is there a tunnel of light, a glimmer of hope

Or do they build a wall, a shelter from the storm

And which do they wish had never been born

Themselves for being broken, not prepared to live

Or perhaps the takers who never learned to give

Who's There

Somethings got me but there's nobody there

And I can feel it but I don't know where

It makes me hurt, I can't point to the place

But it shows in my eyes, and on my face

Maybe it is a ghost from days gone by

Or just a shadow
           maybe it is I

Hugs

I really like hugs, they feel so nice

It's an ingredient, like a spice

They can make us feel so safe and sound

With a hug you can never fall down

I'll give one to you, and you to me

We'll both feel better, it's plain to see

A hug is just a moment, but the warmth lingers on

So we can still feel it, after the other has gone

Go Ahead Tomorrow

Go ahead tomorrow, give me your best shot

Go ahead and try me, I'll show you what I got

Sometimes you knock me down, but I get back on my feet

And everybody knows that life is bitter sweet

It's not a bed of roses, there's always good and bad

Go ahead tomorrow, you could make me glad

Go ahead tomorrow, let me feel the sun

Or rain on my parade, try and spoil my fun

Whatever you bring I'm ready and waiting for you

There's so much left to give so tomorrow, cheers to you!

Falling Star

I'm a falling star that you rarely see

When I burn out, to you I cease to be

But the glow reappears time after time

And for a while I wander through your mind

I yearn for you to see me when I'm dark

For then I'll know you've seen me straight from the heart

Time

You think we'll last forever

That time is on our side

Nothing will hurt us ever

So we just let things slide

We only see in glances

As if we're passing by

We've had so many chances

But still we let it lie

I don't know much about you

Or what you hope to be

If ever we have time to

Maybe latter, we'll see

Kiddo, Uncle Sonny, Mother, two Dads and counting

What triggers your memories?

I will always think of Kiddo, my grandmother every time I hear a soprano sing in a church choir above all the other voices. No matter how many or how loud others were singing, we could always hear Kiddo sing above all the others. Both my Great Uncle Sonny and my father-in-laws passing have left such deep wounds they have yet to heal and I expect there will still be a wound when it is my turn to leave this earth. Yellow ribbons. That's just one of my memory triggers for Uncle Sonny. Up to the time of his passing, he was the only man in my entire life that had never left me. I loved him unconditionally as a child and looked forward to each weekday morning of burned toast, oatmeal, and Tang.
I so wanted him to stay I tied yellow ribbons on his hospital bed rail in hopes he would see my signal and stay just a bit longer. Just one more kiss and hug. Just one more. I cried for days and wrote a poem that I placed in his jacket pocket on the day of the funeral. It was the only option left to say goodbye. I miss him.

I still see the pain and anguish on my father-in-laws face before he was moved from the hospital to hospice. I would feed him Jello and try to make him laugh but each day he slipped further and further and soon his whispered voice spoke no more. When I just couldn't watch him suffer needlessly anymore I said "Dad, your breaking my heart! You don't have to be a hero. Please Dad let them give you the pain medicine." I still have the memory of his anguished face. Especially his face but his whole visible body flushed with red as he nodded his head in agreement. He was hurt for causing my heartache and my heartache was from seeing his pain. Four years later and it still brings tears to my eyes. I raced to the nurses station and told them he had agreed to take pain medication. For now I will embrace this memory and hope for a happier one to emerge.

The smell of fresh asphalt resurrects memories of my Dad. Mother left me with her image and I see her reflection not mine each time I look in the mirror. And there are a couple of songs, The Lion Sleeps Tonight also known as "Wimoweh", Teach Your Children Well a song by Graham Nash that keep her memory alive in me.

My Aunt June, my favorite Aunt June left this world just recently and I will never look at a Minion or crayons the same.  I was honored to speak at her funeral. She was a delight to know and easy to love. Her passing has elevated me to a full fledged adult but I still want to be like her when I grow up.

Physically gone but our circle of family and friends will live forever in the memory of our hearts and minds. Those sweet memories that come unexpectedly bring the most joy. I believe that it is the memory of our loved ones that create sparkle in the world. The sky, the stars, lakes, rivers, streams and oceans. Maybe that is why I am drawn to shiny things . . .

Love is kind (and shines forever).

Mother to Mother

The life and times of yours and mine
Mothers young or old the love light shines

Days go by, then weeks and years
And through it all we shed some tears

A child is born or a loved one dies
We gather together with bleary eyes

We live, we laugh, we dance and sing
We celebrate the simple things

A school recital a game a play
A family reunion that lasts all day

Family is the root of the tree
Providing fruit, the shade we need

Family is there when others are not
Mother to mother ready or not

   

Why tears are heavy

Ever wonder why tears are so heavy?

Tears are often contagious and on the outside they give the impression they cause harm. So much so that our first reaction is to try to make them stop. Our own tears or tears of a family member or friend we mostly react the same. We want them to stop but tears have healing properties if you just let them fall. For me, in my life, tears water my soul. They prevent me from drowning in sorrow when ravaged with grief. Soothe heartache (which often goes unnoticed to my mind because it can be a very, very, slow process). And over time tears dilute regrets so they sting less. Tears have the power to carve a path for remembrances to spontaneously erupt with unabashed laughter. Much like a playful dolphin breaking through the surface, dancing in the air briefly with pure joy.

Ever wonder what causes that sparkle on the water? I'm not a scientist but I am certain it is the light of joy emitting from millions of shared moments of lives and love lost but not forgotten.

Tears are meant to be and they do good work. So when I grieve, if you feel comfortable to do so, do give me a hug, a shoulder to lean on, squeeze my hand tightly so I can feel the strength of your heart with mine. Know my sorrow is mine. My grief is mine. If I have anger it too is mine. You cannot "fix" me nor I you but together we can share those memories and hold each other up and I will honor your grief, your pain, and your anger in kind.

For those who have fresh wounds know that love never dies and wherever they are they will love you from there just as you will continue to love them from here.

"I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

- J. R. R. Tolkien

Love is kind (often tearful), and I'm ok with that.

Crayons, Coloring books and Bob

Yesterday, 9/12/15, I found out my favorite aunt had fallen and soon after, possibly in the ambulance, also suffered a stroke. We didn't see each other often but she is the one that comforted my "big blister" and I after our mother died. She even came to our church to be with us the first Mother's day after Mothers passing. She found ways to soften our transition to being fully orphaned and took us out for dinner on or around our birthday most years after. I looked forward to those dinners with just us girls and our spouses. No cousins allowed! This was our time. 

When my husband and I first arrived she seemed disoriented and confused even to the point that I didn't think she knew who I was. Finally realizing yes, she had had a stroke and her right side was not functioning. She can't see me standing here. I made my way to the left side as my cousin and big blister yielded. As I shuffled closer her bruised and swollen face flashed a smile that lifted my heart and after that I truly believed she knew it was me. Her speech was slurred and I didn't understand much of what she said but I listened intently to it all and reassured her it would get better. Every day it would get better. Her only job was to rest and get better. 

I brought her coloring books, crayons and a small stuffed Minion I introduced to her as King Bob. One of the coloring books was My Little Pony and the other was Minions. Both coloring books came with four primary colored crayons. I explained that a choice of four crayons is not really a choice and that is why we bought the bigger box. It contained 24 new high tech crayons that twisted to allow a larger usable crayon instead of having to peel the paper away. 

As she studied my face I explained that I wasn't sure if she had heard of Minions or remembered what they look like so I brought King Bob to model for the coloring book if needed. She seemed impressed and I hoped that soon I would walk into her room and find her honing her fine motor skills with the help of crayons, coloring books and Bob. I also encouraged her to play with him. I told her as she began to feel better she could have some fun with her visitors by nudging Bob onto the floor or if she was strong enough she could toss him across the room when the time was right and no one would be the wiser. I said you can play fetch whenever you have people in the room. They will pick him up every time! (I was delighted to hear that my cousin walked into her room the next morning to find her Mother, my favorite aunt, clutching Bob in her left hand). 

I think I was able to connect, encourage and comfort my cousins daughter as she was making her way around the room saying her goodbyes. After all my years, and all the losses, I still, to this day and into the foreseeable future, have no idea how to say goodbye to a loved one. After so many years I know how death works. Me and my broken heart really know that. So many losses and I still feel as though they just recently passed on. Often I find no comfort where comfort should be and as the people around me dwindle I cannot imagine that the grief of this life will ever be something that I can deal with gracefully.

My favorite memory of my Aunt June didn't happen too long ago. She me and 1203 (long story short, 1203 is my husband) had a very deep and honest discussion of things she had never spoken to anyone else about. That intimacy and renewed bond will forever be with me and will remain till time is no more. And while we wait for God to do his work and hear our prayers I am certain that she heard me yesterday and will love me from wherever she is as I will love her through my grief and beyond. Fifty nine years on this earth and still not good at goodbye.

As mentioned in one of my earlier post: What words could possibly be spoken that would comfort another? What words can truly express the feelings of those touched by loss and if I am the one grieving, what words can lift the veil? How do we communicate death to a child or someone child like? How do we respond to a grieving heart that can distract enough to allow just a moment of relief? We have words that can cut us to the bone but what words bring comfort? I think it isn't so much the pain and heartache but more the anguish that leaves us broken without words.It is my experience that the sadness of death is like a tsunami that floods the heart with grief. Friends and family are swept in as the words are spoken announcing the loss and collectively but uniquely we rage against the force of the waters. Waters that have (this time) spared us and taken a loved one. As the waves continue to crash on the shore we stop thrashing as often and allow our broken hearts to ride the waves that are rhythmically lifting us to the next sunrise.

Today the doctors are not optimistic that a recovery is possible. Tomorrow will begin another sunrise and all things are possible. Love is kind (and for now is reflected in the form of crayons, coloring books and a Minion named Bob).