Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Your Death - Poem #2

  




              Your death has
split me
wide open,
I am gutted
like a  steer
freshly slaughtered.

Your death
has spared me
nothing
in horror,
in terror.
in guilt.

What I didn’t expect,
had no way
of knowing,
was that the
depth I
plummeted to
would
also find
new depths of
living
&
loving
&
laughter.



Friday, January 8, 2016

A Bridge Back To Better


There is such an unbridgeable chasm between the bereaved and the non-bereaved that feels sometimes hopeless.  But slowly the sun rises and the bridge back has been to never stop grieving.


The most
creative
task
I have
ever
accomplished,
is
to find
new
meaning
&
value
out of
the
absurdity
of
her death.





Friday, December 11, 2015

Grief Changes Eerything






From the moment of “knowing”
           
            To the end of my life

                        Her death has turned me

                                    Upside downand inside out making me over

The changes are unseen

            As is the pain of her death

                        As the changes in my mind

                                    As the changes in relationships

                       

As is the earthworm turns the soil

            As it always has done

                        As it aerates the soil

                                    So grief changes everything

 

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Weariness



I am so weary of death and dying’
            Weary if ISIS growing the club of bereavement
                        Weary of trying to convince people that the healing is in the grieving.
                                    Weary of the long, unnecessary suffering.


Weary of being embarrassed that I am who I AM
            WEARY
                        WEARY
                                    Weary           


Life
goes on
&
so
do I.

As though
Sharon
never
existed.

Except,
I
know
she
does.


Monday, October 19, 2015

Alone

Alone

The saddest most alone feeling in the world
Is to be with people I love and that love me
And to feel that forever distance and difference
The longing to go back and be able to belong
Is a physical need that can never be satisfied

Such a mystery of how to be and yet, never be the same
I remember when I didn’t understand others grief
And thought they should just “get over it”
Then Sharon died and I was alone in a different universe
I still am.

Alone is different from loneliness, I am not lonely,
Alone is a place where no one can go with me to comfort or help
Because no one else can see the rips and tears in my soul
No one else can see the hole in my gut
No one else can feel the wrenching, devastating pain of the death of a child

I never know when or why this place will descend on me and consume all joy,
peace or fulfillment.  If I don’t fight the need I get through and come out the other side a little wiser and life goes on.    



When I
am
all  alone
&
the universe
is
only
my pain & grief.

That is
when
I
know most
deeply
what
it
means
to be
human.


Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Breavement



Bereavement is a condition that never clears up

No matter how hard I try, it is always there

The pain
The emptiness
The changed me
The scoldings for not being over it
The loneliness
The shame
The guilt
The tears
The longing
The fear
The rejection
                                                                       Her death is
no
guarantee,
no insurance,
that I
will
not
lose again.

There is no
way
to
protect myself
from
further loss.

That is deeply
frightening.

What do
I
do with
that?

Well,
I guess
I
notice
how precious
today is
&

how deeply

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Silence



Silence of the grave
Silence surrounds me in my sorrow
Silence because no one wants to hear
Silence because grief is too scary for most
Silence because there are no adequate words

Silence is golden
Silence allows me to redo my point of view
Silence is safe from all the scoldings
Silence is wondering why I keep writing and posting
Silence is a place to die or grow


I didn’t experience “phases of grief;” I just felt overwhelming pain. The phases of grief are: shock and denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and acceptance. I wish I could be like those people who put their grief somewhere else and never shed a tear. I grieved loudly and often for at least the first year, upsetting many folks that wanted me to shut up and take some pills. That always seemed like a dishonoring of my daughter and her life. She was that dear to me. Not grieving her death would have been to discount that. The stress of being stoic is immense, and a killer of those who choose not to grieve.
That was choice number one on the long journey back from destroyed to rebuilt: simply to grieve.


Grieving is not something we have to learn; it comes with the package, and it is part of the human condition. Evidently, it is an evolutionary mechanism for humans to be able to deal with the pain of grievous loss. We learn to recognize the symptoms and stages. The really hard part is to learn how to express our grief in ways that are healing. Who wants to be sad in such a chirpy culture as ours? Better not to say anything and suffer in silence. But that brings its own problems.