Friday, October 20, 2017

Poem #5

 I came in one day
found Sharon dead
I went mad.

Because you were there
let me have
I am healing.

Thank you.

Friday, October 6, 2017

At This Time...

For Las Vegas, for Puerto Rico, for Florida, for Texas, for America

There is no such thing as enough
There is nothing to say that is enough
There is no place that is safe enough

All we can do is offer our hand in the dark
They will be unaffected, keep offering
They will push us away, keep offering

When my daughter died I wondered why people weren’t helping me.  It took almost a year to realize that everyone had been helping.  It just didn’t feel like it to me.  The pain and impact is that great, and the devastation is irrevocable. 

The help is like salve on a wound, not instant healing, but every dab, or pat on the arm, adds up over time to the healing.  The scars are always there and the change is permanent.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

On Being Bereaved in a "Chirpy" Culture

“Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ seems to be our national hymn.  It will be interesting to see how that comes back after the hurricanes this summer and the massacre in Los Vegas.  But I am confident it will, as I believe the investment in the stats quo is that powerful.

In the face of that powerful edict, how does one stay true to oneself and the equally powerful need to heal/grieve?  It ain’t easy, as the saying goes.  But it is possible.  Basically we find pockets of those that are more real and authentic.  It is easier now than when Sharon died due to the Internet and social media that has happened in the 40 years since her death.  There are many sites and local groups that I had no access to.

Even so;
But grief is a walk alone. Others can be there.
But you will walk alone down your own path, at your own pace, with your sheared-off pain, your raw wounds, your denial, anger and bitter loss.
You’ll come to your own peace, hopefully…but it will be on your own, in your own time
Cathy Lamb

I would add that the walk alone sets us apart from others that I hope they never have to understand—yet the longing to belong is great and adds to the loneliness of "the walk alone".