5 years and counting

Why do I sit year after year
Constantly staring into the rear
Of my life?

Why do I look day after day
To find reason or way
To my life?

Why do I think this life is about me when I am but a grain of sand on the beach? I am one of an infinite number of beings whose life, memories, feelings have come and gone like a blink of an eye.  So who cares about the past or the future? Maybe only the present is relevant.  What am I doing right now? Is that what's important? Is it good, or bad? Right or wrong? Funny or sad?   Do I have an effect on anyone other than my family?  Did my smile brighten someone's day?  Did my curse make someone cry?  Did my hug smother or console?

Someone writes a book that millions of people read.  Then those people die as life goes.  What good did reading that book do?  It may have helped in the moments of reading but does it change the life of those who read it? And for how long, a day, a week, a second?

My questions go unanswered as I know they always shall.  I wish I could stop asking them.  Unfortunately the first question you ask as a child is "why". And it is never answered.

Life is...

Life is a path of boulders and holes. Neither of which are good for the ankles. You fall off the boulder and into the hole. The light you saw standing on top of the boulder is now blackened by the walls of the hole.

Life is a path of lily pads on a pond. None of them will hold your weight so you better learn to swim.

Life is a path of with no hand holds, no directions, no net to catch you, no light to guide you so why do we walk down that path? What is behind us that drives away from where we stand? Is it not safe? Are we forced to keep moving by some force we can't see? Or is it there right in front of us but we choose not to look.

Life is a path of choices, a constant stream of splits in the road. Take the lesser of two evils if you are afraid or the greater if you are stupid. Which is better, fear or stupidity? Because bravery is just a figment of your imagination.

Life is a box of chocolates. Yes, when you are young and ready to start down that path. Sometimes your born on the path and there never will be any chocolates.

Oh my, oh my... What is wrong with me?

Oh my!

It's been just over a year.
Poems

When you smile and cry
From the joy in your life
Your heart expands with love.

When you smile and cry
From the grief in your life
Your heart caves in from the pain.


HOPE

I sit in a chair and slap my arm
Trying to figure out where I came from.
Not who I was when I was born, but who
I am not that you are gone.

Window panes of see thru glass
Coloring books with a lifeless past
Two dimensional photos staring back at me
While  I just sit and cry

You died. I cried.
My soul bled red life.
My heart did crack
Never to be whole again.

And now I sit in my rocking chair
Dreaming of life gone by
Tomorrows come with no relief
Todays I can only bare.
Where is the hope that I once had...
It crawled into a hole and died.


GRIEF
I don't do death and dying very well.
And you don't need a referee between you and your conscience.
You know the difference between true and real and false and phony.
And if you don't you'll learn very shortly.

If this is your first true close encounter with the face of death you'll understand why I can't be there.
It wears a mask of sadness but underneath is a shinning light of pure peace and forgiveness.
For it  is life that wears a mask of happiness but underneath is pure pain and revenge. The unforgiven walk the earth as do the unforgiving.

Regret stops at deaths door for those dying.  They can't do anything about it now. It's the living that keep hate and sorrow fed.  Death is a wake up call that slaps you in the face.
It asks the question, are you trying to hurt the one you love or do you want what's best for them?

This is not a recollection of all that life is.  Just a reminder to be careful of what you wish for, what you pray for, when the last seconds are ticking down.
Some use god to take away the pain like the morphine drip for the dying.
Some pretend and some just don't really care.

As much as I've tried to hide my grief, put on the facade of strength and courage, I have not "healed", I am a walking wimp.
I do what it takes to get by, hanging on to those who put up with me.

To those who morn, you do not want me around you in these last hours before death brings relief.  I would be a black hole sucking in the life around me.
You need  perseverance (not strength) and solitude to understand what's happening to you.  And some day you might.  I haven't yet.

I don't do death and dying.
I am not good at it.


Those are a few things I wrote over last year.  So much more in my head and it's expanding too fast.  I hear people thinking that it's time to let go and get on with my life.  I just ignore them.  They don't understand.  But the direction has changed.  It's time for me to take the blame for the relationships in my life.  Take a good look at myself.  And hope I don't throw up.

Ghosts

Tears streak through the white washed mask
so well displayed for all to see
Bare wood memories start to splinter as
the mind grasps the reality of loneliness
Odors of yesterday fill the daydream
while sounds arc across phantom air
Visions of smiles and shuffling feet move
through cobwebs in the mind

Sometimes what you do know can hurt
even if you don't know when

Death sleeps silently unable to waken
from its ghostly slumber of the ages

You can too

I am not strong
I am not weak
I just am
You can be too.


I don't know what it's like to live on the precipice of life.  To wonder each night if you will wake up the next morning.  I'm pretty sure that hope keeps you going and every day that you wake up is a good day no matter how you feel.  But that's just a guess.  That's what you always said.

I'm sorry the last few years were not as good as they could have been but I know the last few months were the best.  I have no regrets about our relationship.  We knew what love is and learned to accept each other as equals.  You pushed others to expand themselves.  Some could, some couldn't.  You took nothing for granted.  You faith is in the love of your family and friends.  You are the best part of me.



I am not sorry that I am hurting 
Not sorry that I am sad.


It' not easy to hurt like this
Not easy to feel bad.


I can't just shake it off 
like the rain upon your coat.
And I can't just walk away
from a life I've always known.


I feel your presence everywhere
your footsteps in the halls
your laughter in the echos
of the quiet on your walls.


When I reach to touch your face
I wipe away a tear
There's only empty space I see
And what's left is cold, hard fear


You've gone from womb to tomb my child
And the good die young they say
So many catchy phrases used
Spit out to save the day.


I'm not sorry that I don't smile anymore
Laughter hardens a broken heart
And I'm not sorry I held you 
as you left this life of ours


But I will survive,
You made sure,
I will survive.

Time...

This time
Last time
Next time
More  time
What does time stand for?

Your time
My time
Their time
Our time
When time is up, what's next?

You frown
I mile
She laughs
He cries
Our faces give us away.

Hearts feel
Minds think
Understand that
Eyes blink
Reality changes that fast.

Peace and love
You cannot steal
Neither can they be a gift
They are packaged in the deal.

You think because I don't hold god's hand that I can't find what you call peace? Is your peace making your fate, your destiny, someone else's responsibility?  I have no one to blame or praise for my choices but myself.  If god gave me anything he gave me a brain.

Religions say the only way to peace is through their god. And there are so many religions so there must be many gods.  Which one is right or are they all right, or equally wrong?

There is no explanation for life - it just is.  But there is love. Think with your heart.

Words

Last night I got into bed and muted the tv and started to write....

The Path

I've been down this path before
Through the gate I closed the door
Followed footstep others made
And found they didn't fit...

So I tried to make my own
Found I had to walk alone
Step by step I made my way
Keeping others lives at bay

Couldn't take the chance that I
Might step on someone else's life
Destroy the rhythm they had found
To survive this journey bound

Now we are back inside this gate
Hoping that it's not too late
To find another knob to turn
To show myself what I have learned.


Pain

I don't know where
I don't know when
I don't know why
I just can't give in


I will ignore
I will escapte
I will reject
This place of fate


But I will survive
I will arrive
at some far away
place to hide

Shielding my face
Pushing away grace
So I can just breathe


This time I will not cry
As long as no one speaks your name
my tears are tucked inside my brain
I learned from you how to hide my pain.

Oh well

Everything I have to say has been said before
By some other face in some other place
Along some other shore

So why do I bother writing my thoughts
I can't rhyme my words, have no time
Life still bleeds it's do's and ought's 

to be continued...

Just for you

Just for you I am smiling
Just for you I won't give up
Just for you I am surviving
I know you will be here no matter what

3rd mother's day

I don't know if I wrote anything on the past 2 mom's days.  I don't reread my journal.  Can't.  This year is calmer.  Still feels empty at times.  I remember a mom's day sitting on the floor on Danny's side opening little packages with the three of them watching me.  Nothing big, lotion, candy, something else, cards, just little stuff wrapped in newspaper or cloth.  It might have been the last one with Mary, I can only remember being there.  

I've kept as many of my birthday cards, anniversary cards, and mother's day cards as I can.  They don't all have dates on them so I can only look at the hand writing to judge the year. I want to be cremated with all of them. They are part of the chronicles of my life.

Julie won a contest and got me a ring that has her birthstone in it.  Then Kerry got me two more for Mary and Danny.

I wanna believe
that I will see you some day
walking in a field
or playing in the hay.

I wanna believe
you've got a smile on your face
where ever you are
holdin' my heart in place


And I wanna hear you callin' my name again
while we're runnin' up the mountain side

But I know I'm just pretending
hoping my life will start mending
all my love to you I'm sending

I wanna believe......
I wanna believe......

Are we going to make it?

Are we going to make it?
What will it take to survive?

We hold on to each other
Afraid of letting go

Thinking of the things that could have been
Crying for why they're not

We are remembering, remembering
little things that make us smile
two friends whose daughters never met
now walk together forever in style

Walking forward for our families
looking back for memories 
we share our stories over again
grasping for some peace

Christine and I had dinner together at our little mexican place. We've been there several times just to meet and eat and talk about our children - all of them - We meet in many places every month or so, whenever the need for each other is great.


I think I've finally figured out why I can't go to the Compassionate Friends meetings or at least why I feel uncomfortable there.  Christine and I can share stories, we are part of each others lives.  We may not have a long history but some of our experiences we have shared together.  Those at TCF share a common experience but not together.  It's why we need people who know Mary and Rachael to keep telling us about their experiences with them.  Don't be afraid to talk about our girls because you think it will hurt us.  It doesn't, it makes us happy, ecstatic, alive to know they haven't been forgotten.  Not that we'd think you could ever forget them.  We just love to hear the stories.  Yes, we may cry but these are tears of love and laughter and joy because we are sharing them with the world.  Our tears of pain and hurt will be put off till later. 


I know TCF are a mainstay and a welcome shelter for many people.  I commend them for opening their hearts to others who are hurting.  But everyone is different.  Their combined pain is too great for me right now.  Maybe some day later. 

In my last entry it sounded like I said Mary's friends aren't mine and I didn't mean the way it came out.  They are mine NOW but I would much rather have her here with her friends than to have her friends here without her.  I know they would rather have her here too.  But I love them dearly, wherever they are because they are a part of her life.  They make her who she is.  The love of my life.  My whole family is the love of my life.

Nothing much happened in court this month.  We are waiting to see if this continuance to Dec 6th will be the actual trial or not.  Waiting, waiting to hurry up and wait.  Next court date is Nov 4th but it's for his ticket.  The more I wait the more I hate.... and the more I love those I need.

Mary's avocado

July 4th came and went without fanfare.  As a family we used to all go the Parrish's.  Our 5 and their 6 made quite a household for 4-5 days.  Looking back they were some of the best times we've ever had as a family.  But all the kids grew up and went their separate ways only to meet again on some July 4th in the future.  After high school the visits got farther apart, partly because of Danny being on the transplant list.  

Beth's daughter got married the last Sunday in June.  I listened to Vyvyan tell me about it all the while thinking of what could have been at Mary's wedding.  Thank god for scar tissue.

I used to say to people who had lost a child that I didn't know how they kept breathing.  When in fact I didn't understand why they were still breathing.  I just knew if any of my children were gone you'd have to box me up and put me in a padded room.  I could not comprehend at all, positively not, no way in heaven, what kind of person you'd have to be to be sane enough to continue to breathe.   Now week after week I relive that night, those first few minutes, those first few hours when reality ceased to exist.  And I still can't comprehend how I am breathing.  Some say it's because I have people who depend on me and I can't let them down.  Some say it's self preservation (NOT- I would change places with Mary right now if I could.  But since I can't I do some signs of self preservation sometimes.)  Some say I am strong (NOT).  Some don't say anything. Most are just glad it's not them - as I used to be.  

If Danny leaves me I do believe I will take up residence in a box somewhere.  So, now I can't comprehend how parents still breathe after loosing more than one child.  Since none of my really important prayers have ever been answered I don't bother asking for a heart for Danny.  It makes me sick to think someone else will walk this journey when Danny will be alive and happy.  Yet, I want a heart to come his way so he will be alive and happy.  Such a Catch 22.  And I know it's not my fault someone will have to die for Danny to get a heart.  It's just not fair, but life isn't.  Knowing truths and realities in your mind doesn't help in the practical application of living.  Theory and execution are two different animals.


Mary's last avocado is still in the freezer.

I am not strong.  I am not weak.

I am merely trying to seek

Answers for which there are no questions.

I must keep walking in shoes that do not fit,

Along paths that go no where

Under skies that do not shine.

Each day I walk I split myself in half

One for the future, one for the past

Broken cartoon faces lighting the way

Regrets

I believe I have the mostly amazingly patient son ever born.  He puts up with my nagging about taking his pills and getting his blood tests done with a smile after each word.  Then he does what he wants on his own time!  When you look up the word patience in the dictionary, you see a picture of Danny. 

 

I wanted to say something else today but I can’t for the life of me think of what it was.  I’m always reciting long winded speeches in my head while I’m driving, sitting around, painting, or even watching TV.  Many of them are directed at “that man”.  Many are aimed at other possible/probable drunk drivers in an effort to warn them and hope they have enough conscience to understand the pain they might cause.  Unfortunately, most can’t see beyond the end of their noses which is why the do what they do.  Other times I’m merely ranting to myself about how much I miss Mary and all the things we should be doing together.  Then there are the poems and songs I compose.  I usually forget the words minutes after I say them.  I’ve even tried to record them.  But driving and recording goes together about as well as driving and crying.  Should have a sign posted that says “if you are not a professional, don’t try this in the car”......

Sometimes the things I think in my head I can only say in a poem.

Regrets 

Regrets Regrets

Feels just like sand upon my teeth

Regrets Regrets

Or like pins on the cushions of my feet

 

Every single time I said good bye

Whether on the phone or staring in her eyes

I said “I love you”,  I said “I love you”

 

My regrets are for what could have been

Not for what I should have done and when

Time cannot heal …….what isn’t said

 

Regrets Regrets

They are the mud upon my shoes

Regrets Regrets

They are the sadness in the news

 

Some would say that I’m the lucky one

Luck is only for when you’re having fun

This pain is real……it will not fade

 

Every single time I said good bye

I said “I love you’…..

What to do???

Today starts month number 8 of my new life.  It has been 7 months and 1 day since I last talked to Mary.  Today Tony’s mom held a dog walk fund raiser for her UGA funds.  It rained the whole time, sometimes hard sometimes only misting.  But we had about 25 people and dogs show up.  Many of the dogs were mutts, rescued from the pound or from abusive owners.  It was bitter sweet.  Mary’s doggies were all rescued from some place, our house or the pound.  She loved each of the fiercely.  Now they are what Tony holds on to so he can be close to Mary.  Yes, Taco even sleeps with him.  She used to sleep with Mary when Tony was out of town.  She would go to bed with Taco’s head laying on the pillow beside her and wake up with Taco’s butt beside her.  Mary loves her doggies.

But Choda was their special baby.  They picked him from all the pound dogs in Athens the first year they started dating.  Each told their parents that Choda belonged to the other.  He lived at both their apartments equally.  He didn’t’ like the color red (so Mary says) and wasn’t fond of men.  But he did love Tony.  Choda loved the outdoors as much as Mary and Tony.  Mary crocheted a back pack for Choda to haul his food when they went hiking.  Dried dog food weights a lot and if you’re going to enjoy the outdoors you have to pay the price of hauling your own food. 

Choda was killed by a drunk driver in front of their house.

The dog walk was a great success (even with the rain) and will be even bigger next year.  This is going to be an annual fund raiser. 

As I said last time I read other journals on line.  One is about a family with 3 children.  The middle girl is about 1.½ and has a heart transplant.  The have a new born and a 4 year old, I think.   All was well with them until around last April.  The little girl has been sick with complications related to being immuno-suppressed in general.  Her heart is fine.  She has been in and out of the hospital since April.  I wish I could say something to the mom (she writes the journal) to help her smile.  I have absolutely no words at all that could possibly comfort her.  I can only say to myself, hold on to SaraKate and hug her tightly while you have her.  Every parent should remember that whether their child is ill or not. 

There are so many reasons why a child dies.  Only old age is acceptable.  I’ve read comments on TCF website – drug overdose, suicide, incurable illness, murder, child abuse, “accident”, etc.  There are so many and they are so varied.  I can’t imagine what a parent goes through for any other reason than ours.  There are no better or worse scenarios.  There is just death and the absence of your child.  I can’t bear to hear or think about someone else’s loss because it makes mine so much more vivid and alive.  Yes, it moves, it crawls, it breathes.  It eats you up and spits you out.  All I can do is put a blanket over it for awhile so it will sleep.  Then it starts to move again.  Brace yourself.

Will I always have to fake the laughter that I knew before

he took you away from me?

 

Will I always have to pretend to smile at the jokes that people tell

to try to make be feel relief?

 

Will I always feel your love sheltering my pain? 

Taking all the hits that this new life portrays?

Will I always see your smile looking up at me?

Finding memories that help me through my day?

 

Will I always have to blink the tears from my eyes that come

whenever I think of you?

Will I always have to have to wear your clothes and jewelry next to my

heart to feel close to you?

 

Will I ever find the peace that your love gave everyone?

To continue with this life empty of your grace?

Will I ever find the steps that I need to take?

This path is so dark you need to light my way.

 

Will I ever?

 

Will I never?

 

What will I do?

For Danny, too

I only need to hear your voice

Just for one moment

To remind me you’re still here

If only for now

I only need to see your smile

Just for one second

To remind me of your love

If only for now

But I still need to know that you’ll always be with me

No matter what happens at the end of the day

I only need to feel your touch

Just for one second

To know you will hug me tight

Forever and a day.

Just a phone call away

I read the journal entries of several different families as they go through the before and after transplant process with their children.  Other journals are just life in general with the problems and trauma’s in life .  For some the days have been good to them for some their life is constantly churning with issues and stress.  I would give anything to be one of the ones who are walking on the edge because it would mean Mary was with me no matter how bad the situation.  I almost said I would trade places with them but I would not trade places with anyone.  No one should know the path I walk, that my family walks.  More so because Mary’s death was so fu*^&% preventable.   I would not even trade places with her killer because I believe the only thing as bad as where I am is where he is or should be.  At least it it would be for someone who gives a damn about people.  It would also mean one of his children would be gone.  I wish that on NO one.  But I hope he is tormented to the day he dies with the knowledge of what he has done.

On the Compassionate Friends website people leave updates about themselves and those they lost.  So many of them say “I lost my child (any age) 7, 12, 18 (etc) years ago….  It is hard for me to grasp that many years going by without Mary beside me.  It’s hard to grasp 7 months coming up.  Time does not heal.  It just screws everything up to where I don’t know what’s coming or going.  Sometimes it gets me through the day, some times it doesn’t.  Tonight it didn’t.  I was watching a TV show, a musical.  The mother was singing about watching her child grow up and leave her.  Wondering if she would ever get her back.  Well, that sent me to the laundry room to finish washing clothes and cry on the floor.  I called Danny just to hear his voice.  Even as I sit here and write this the tears are blocking my vision like rain drops on a windshield.  Too bad I don’t have eye wipers.

Many of the parents from TCF group have found solace in contacting mediums or spiritual readers to contact their children.  They have “after life communications” with their children.  Believe me, I have considered it often although I haven’t acted on any suggestions from psychics.  Where are all the billions of people who have died since Adam and Eve?  Just a phone call away?  Do you need something special to talk to a loved one?  Wouldn’t everybody be standing in line at every mediums door begging to talk to someone?  Just a thought….  I want so badly to talk to and see Mary again that I think I could twist every leaf dropping, door opening, bird call at 3 am, ray of sunlight, rainbow overhead, etc… as a “sign” from her.  I don’t want to rely on signs other people tell me are my link to Mary.  I want to see her standing in front of me.  I know I will see her when I leave this earth.  But I want to see her now.  I don’t want to “think” I see or hear her.  I want to know.

So, for now, I’ll just get by as I have been for now.  She has gone away for awhile.  She’s still my sweetie and I’m still her mom and we still take care of each other.

I only need to hear your voice

Just for one moment

To remind me you’re still here

If only for now

 

I only need to see your smile

Just for one second

To remind me of your love

If only for now

 

But I still need to know that you’ll always be with me

No matter what happens at the end of the day

 

I only need to feel your touch

Just for one second

To know you will hug me tight

Forever and a day.

Sleeping

Today has not been the best of days.  I have not cried today, not one tear.  But there’s been an overwhelming cloud of sadness hovering over me all day long.  I walked around like I was dragging a hundred pound weight on my leg.  I didn’t smile much.  When something got in my way on my desk I threw it across the room.  Temper tantrum…  And, of course, my chest had a weight sitting on it.  Just acting like a zombie with no feelings except irritability. 

I don’t like taking anything that makes me sleep.  And, I don’t sleep all that much.  So I stay up until I’m so tired I fall asleep and then I go to bed.  Last night I fell asleep on the sofa watching TV.  Then woke up at 1am and went to bed.  I laid there for awhile and finally fell back asleep.  This morning Kerry tells me he had a huge anxiety attack around midnight, got up to look for me, found me on the sofa, and let me sleep because I looked peaceful.  Ha.  That’s why I don’t want to take anything.  If I can’t wake up when someone needs me when I sleep naturally, I sure as hell won’t wake up if I took a sleep aide.   When Mary was little she would come and stand by my bed and stare at me in the middle of the night when she got scared.  She didn’t want to wake me.  After about 15 seconds of staring I would wake up.  Something about eyes piercing into my mind or else her breathing hard would wake me.  The point is, I WOKE UP.  I could wake at the sound of a mosquito, someone tip toeing down the hall, any little sound.  Whenever my babies needed me I was ready.

When I sleep now I hear NOTHING.  The ice maker used to wake me up, corn popping, microwave humming, dishwasher running (Danny is a night owl).  I don’t like not knowing what’s going on even when I’m sleeping.  Usually I can’t get to sleep.  I just lay there and toss and turn.

The other night while Julie was channel surfing the news popped up and described a house fire where three sisters died from smoke inhalation.  The new caster was actually interviewing the mother.  Unbelievable.  You could see shock stamped all over her face and body and yet they kept asking questions of her while showing the remains of the house behind her.  Everyone is different I realize but to loose three children at one time and still be able to talk and breathe is not in my universe of life.  I don’t know what caused the fire.  We changed the channel before getting any details.  I can’t stand knowing how someone else must feel and I can’t imagine what that mother is going through.

Take my hand

Move aside

See me run

Let me hide

Touch my heart

Tell me no

See my face

Let me go

I don’t wanna ever turn you loose

I don’t wanna ever reach the end

Give me something to hang on to for awhile

Cuz I’m gonna need another shot of your smile

I need you here

Need you to stay

Need you everywhere

Hug me tight

Into the night

See me cry

Watch me die

I don’t wanna ever turn you loose

I don’t wanna ever reach the end

Give me something to hang on to for awhile

Cuz I’m gonna need another shot of your smile

Please don’t go

I need to know

You’ll be here

Forever…..

I Don't ...

I don't like the poems I write anymore.  I don't like the way I write them.  They are too much alike now, not the words but the meter or rhythm.  Like listening to someone sing different songs to the same tune.  So I will have to figure out a different way of writing.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid life now more than ever.  I've never been afraid of much other than spiders and drowning.  Mostly because I've had a nest of daddy long legs jump on me and I swallowed too much salt water at the beach.  Both happened when I was young and impressionable as opposed to be old and stoic.  Now I'm afraid of tomorrow, today, even yesterday.  Afraid life won't go on without Mary but really afraid it will.  I'm not supposed to worry about what might happen tomorrow, next week, next month.  "Don't cross that bridge till you get there because you might never get there."  I'm afraid the bridge won't be there.  I want to scream and punch something but I'm afraid if I start I won't be able to stop.  I'm afraid I will never forget 2am March 31st and yet I'm afraid I will.  It's quite the Catch 22.

I'm afraid to answer the phone when it rings and I used to be afraid of not answering it and missing a call that could be really important.  Kerry would always say "if it's important they'll call back".  I want Emory to call but every time they do call my heart jumps in my throat and it's always an appointment reminder.  But when the call finally does come it will mean someone, some family has, is going through what we went through.  I can't wish that on someone.  But I can't not hope for life for Danny.  It's a really horrible place to be sitting.

I'm afraid of going back to a full time job as if nothing has changed when the entire world has.  But I'm afraid if I don't the world will change again and not in a good way. But then, how could it get much worse that living each day without Mary.  Don't say it.  It could get worse and I'm afraid of that.  I can't see it getting better.

I'm afraid of living and dying at the same time.  I'm afraid of living the future and re-living the past.  I'm stuck somewhere between here and there and I don't know where they are.  I want to leave everything and everybody behind and run away but I'm afraid of letting them out of my sight lest I never see them again. Or they might never see me again.

It's been over six months since I last hugged Mary.


I don't want to feel you but I can't let go
I don't want to see you but I can't look away
It seems like yesterday was only last month
And tomorrow is an eternity's wait


The pain is unbearable but it's comforting to know
The hurt will remind me of what I'll never forget
Life will go on but I don't have to watch
Always has now turned into not yet.

Julie gets the results from her MRI today.  I have to see my cardoligist tomorrow.  Danny keeps getting more tired.  Kerry is hanging tough.  The house needs repairing (a gutter on the tallest side of the house fell down after the last great rain fall).  Mary's Party is tomorrow night.

Don’t Worry

 

Don’t tell me not to worry

Rain has to fall, flowers have to bloom

And day turns into night and back to day

Else the universe collapses

 

I worry that your smile may fade

from memories so fresh I can feel the dew

on the mountainside grass

 

I worry that your laughter may quiet

my listening ears as the night frogs song moves

from evening to dawn and stops

 

I worry that your sparkling eyes may close

in my visions so real like the day lily shines for

only a short time in glory

 

I worry that your loving touch may not reach

far enough to comfort me and mine when we

need it most often now

 

I worry that while I don’t want to share your

spirit so fair it needs to be everywhere felt by everyone

to carry on your legacy of loving life with happiness

 

Don’t tell me not to worry

It’s like telling me not to breathe

IT.....What is IT?

I’m changing once again.  I don’t want to be touched or hugged unless I initiate it first.  It almost feels like a burning sensation.  My circle of personal space, as it’s called (I think it’s supposed to be a 3 foot circumference around you), it growing bigger.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture of comfort.  I think my “personal space” has been invaded without my consent and I highly resent it.  He did this to me.  He created the condition in my life, the unwanted dependence upon others, that required physical attention just to exist.  It’s Mary that I really want to hug, touch, feel, hold, not anybody else.  However, I don’t want to let go of my immediate family – I’m too huggy.

 

This is a very strange sensation because I’ve always been a huggy person.  It’s no one’s fault but his.  I’m afraid this growing circle will alienate me from those I love and care about.  Maybe it will change again. 

 

Which makes me ask the question, what exactly are we in control of?  (I was taught never to end a sentence with a preposition but I couldn’t think of any other way to say it.)  Everything you think you are controlling, you’re not.  I can walk or run as I want but I may fall at any moment and break a leg.  That probably won’t happen you say, but watch out, never say never.  I’ve said it two too many times.  Every action you take can have an equal and opposite reaction that puts you out of control.  I can write when I want.  But the computer may die or the power go out.  It’s happened.  I can use a pencil until the point breaks.  I could stick myself and write in blood, but we won’t go there.  I can pee when to I want but sometimes I pee when I don’t want to.  Yep, you too I bet.  How can Mary drive hundreds of miles from northern Va and make it home safe when driving 30 miles she makes it within 3 miles of her home when he takes control of events?

 

Am I being a pessimist?  A defeatist? A skeptic? Or a realist?  Is my cup half empty or half full?  It used to be half full but now it think it’s been flat out drained.  I’m waiting for someone, somewhere to fill it up again.  Or at least lead this horse to water.  Or what’s the other saying....teach me how to fish again.

 

I’ve been collecting donations for the raffle for Mary’s party.  People have been most generous, most amazing.  Even the ones who were not able to contribute were kind enough to just listen to me talk about Mary.  I know one day I’ll be talking about Mary and someone will say “give it a rest” and I’ll say “f*%# you” and go on my merry (!) little way.  But eventually less and less people will even realize that Mary existed.  Each year the nation remembers the victims of 9/11.  I’m not sure the families of the victims really understand how great a gift it is to have the nation, the world, remember those they have lost.  There are small groups, communities of parents who have buried children that get together to remember their children.  But to have MILLIONS of people remember.....

 

“9/11” is now in the dictionary.  There are hundreds of books written about the event.  I’m not begrudging the survivors their memories.  I cried for days after it happened, for people I didn’t know.  I’m not sure if it’s jealously.  Death is a horrible thing to be jealous of.  I guess the same could be said for all the wars we’ve had.  The nation remembers those who gave their lives for our country.  But then, Mary and the 9/11 victims didn’t “give” anything.  Their lives were ripped out of their control (that word again).  I guess it would be nice to have a positive ‘out of control event’ happen.

 

Actually there are some things I do have a positive attitude about.  Otherwise I might drown in a sea of self pity.   

 

“Poor, poor, poor me.     Poor, poor pitiful me”.

 

IT……What is IT?

 

You hurt

You cry

You shut it out

You try to push it away

But it won’t go

It haunts

It claws

It never lets go

But you keep pushing

 

You see

You watch

You close you eyes

You try to ignore it more

But it won’t leave

It stares

It stalks

It pursues your steps

But you keep ignoring

 

You sniff

You smell

You hold your breath

You try to run away

But it won’t fade

It stinks

It rots

It follows your flight

But you keep running

 

You touch

You feel

You hide your hands

You try to wash it away

But it won’t depart

It grabs

It clings

It holds on tight

But you keep washing

 

You eat

You taste

You close your mouth

You try to spit it out

But it won’t melt

It bites

It burns

It’s bitterness clings

But you keep spitting

 

You listen

You hear

You wear head phones

You try to drown it out

But it won’t fade

It screams

It explodes

It probes your thoughts

But you keep drowning

  

It doesn’t bleed

It doesn’t starve

It doesn’t suffocate

It just watches you suffer