Category Archives: grief

Another gone too soon

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It is difficult to write an upbeat post when tragedy has pulled its dark blanket over our small town once again and taken another young life long before it was time for his soul to leave the Earth.

When you live in a small town, nobody is really a stranger.  Those familiar faces you see on the street every day become more than strangers.  They become extended members of our friendship circles and unwittingly become like a member of our family.

Those faces, those smiles that become etched in our memories leave a lingering impression.  If we are lucky enough to have created a relationship with those who were once strangers, the sound of their laughter will remain in our hearts.  This young man was one of those who created a lasting impression on his first encounter.  He had a gregarious spirit and made many people smile.  His bonds of friendship ran deep and his absence will leave a big hole in many hearts.

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My sincerest condolences go out to his family and friends.  Our town will seem darker but Heaven has gained such a bright light.  May you rest in peace and may the many souls that have gone before you find comfort in your warmth and kind spirit.

 

 

Dia De Los Muertos

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She reaches out to me from beyond the stars,

her energy refracts in the light.

A prism of colors dances in the air

and her presence warms the still night.

I enter the evening, void of emotion,

a hollow shell of what I had been.

But the bond that was created when she gave birth to me

seems to linger like it does in a dream.

A single flower I carry in my hand,

asking her spirit to Forget-Me-Not.

Feeling her embrace as the wind churns the leaves,

I feel transported from my steadfast spot.

She is happy now in her place of rest,

free to exist as she wants.

No longer burdened by the shackles of illness,

it is only peace and happiness she flaunts.

 My soul is warmed by her visit,

the binds on my heart are released.

She leaves me now but I know she will return,

her promise gives me a great sense of peace.

~~

gg-wkbadge-e1411321572196

Written for the Grammar Ghoul Challenge #4:

to use the Word prompt:

Void (adjective):
Completely empty.

And to tie it in with this animated short video.

As I watched the video, I knew this poem would be about my mom.

Until death do us part (fiction)

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In his mind, she was perfection.  Every line, every nuance of her face was so aesthetically pleasing to him he knew his plan had to be flawless, just like her.  He would spend the time really getting to know her, find out her likes and dislikes and do everything in his power to have her all to himself.

Each day that she passed by him, she became more beautiful.  Her eyes became a softer, more enchanting green.  Her smile held such true emotion and, as the days went on, she seemed to recognize him as she walked by the coffee shop where he waited for her each morning.  She was the first to say hello and he felt a great sense of pride, and victory.  His diligence and his patience were paying off.  He tried to contain his excitement as he met her gaze and nonchalantly said hello back.   He quickly diverted his attention back to his book, hoping she wouldn’t notice his hands shaking with the elation he was feeling.

He silently chided himself for his adolescent behavior.  He could not make one mistake.  He slowly lifted his eyes from his book to see her turning to get one more glimpse of him before she rounded the corner.  Things were going better than he anticipated.  A level of trust was being established and he was counting on that trust to help him be the guy that gets the girl at the end of the story.

Sign to Nowhere

His memory of those days was so vivid.  He replayed those early days over and over in his head, reliving them like it was just yesterday.  The car jostled along the dirt road and pulled him from his reverie.  He lowered the visor in the car, allowing him to look at the photo of her angelic face smiling back at him.  The sign loomed ahead, drawing him to her once again.

His journey had brought him back to his haunt and he opened his folding chair to face the beautiful landscape.  The grass and wildflowers that he had positioned so carefully had been doing their best to conceal what lay below.  He knew she must still be alive because the rocks had moved and the sign had been pushed further out of the ground.   It was only a matter of time before she ran out of oxygen and would truly be his forever.

~~

Written for the first challenge at Grammar Ghoul Press.  I was excited to see this challenge and not quite sure why my brain went in this direction.  I blame the cold meds!!  Click on the button below and go check it out.

gg-wkbadge-e1411321572196

 

Until we meet again

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heaven

 (image credit)

When I am overcome by sorrow and surrounded by an outpouring of emotion, the writer in me takes over and helps process the overwhelming feelings by using words.  I cannot express enough gratitude for those words at times when tears and despair are not adequate enough to describe the sadness of attending a funeral for a 30-year-old man who had been experiencing the best year of his life.

In the aftermath of a tragic event, two parents lost a son, a younger brother became an only son and my best friend lost her brother.  The news of his passing was felt in our small town like the shock waves recorded during an earthquake.  Everyone who knew Cam was rattled to their core.  The emotion was raw, the grief was all-encompassing and the anguish could have been described as physical pain.

We gathered in Toronto today to celebrate Cam’s life.  We shared tears, we shared many hugs and we all knew we had lost something special in our lives that we can never get back.  Cam was that guy that everyone loved to be around.  His smile will be forever etched in the memories of those who were fortunate enough to see it and his absence will never go unnoticed.

His funeral service today was a touching blend of spirituality and prayer, accented by a heaping dose of Cam’s sense of humor.  As the family left the service, the well-recognized Monty Python song “Always look on the bright side of life” played while we stood, waiting to join the family outside.

“Character may be manifested in the great moments, but it is made in the small ones.”  —Phillip Brooks

Cam truly was a man of character.  May you rest in peace, Cam.

 

It is called a ‘senseless tragedy’ for a reason

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There are several phrases in the English language that we utter fairly frequently without truly recognizing their meaning.  They are used commonly in conversation without true regard for the depth that these phrases can impart.  Today I felt the incredible intensity of one of those over-used expressions.

My best friend lost her brother in what can aptly be described as a senseless tragedy.  Nothing about his passing makes any sense whatsoever.  He was young.  He was paving his path to success and happiness.  He had faced his demons and won.  So why now?  Why would he be taken in such a random accident so long before what should have been his time?  Why are there no acceptable answers to these questions?

These accidents, these random moments in time that can alter the reality of so many, seem so absurd, so unfair.  I cannot write with the perspective I usually have because I am so broken by this senseless tragedy.  So many lives have been forever changed by the loss of his gregarious spirit.  So many futures will be altered by the lack of his presence.  There was absolutely no reason for this catastrophe.

The only thing I have to help me through this is my words.  My heavy heart aches for my best friend and her family.  I have suffered losses in my life, and one very recently, but none compare to the one that they are now faced with.  I can only hope that the embrace of loved ones and the sharing of memories can help alleviate some of their sorrow.  Rest in peace, Cameron.  You will be missed.

 

 

 

 

Finding a way through life with humor

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robin williams

The recent death of Robin Williams has devastated me.  To me, he was the personification of humor.  There are so many of his roles and movie lines that have been ingrained in my psyche.  They have helped shape the person I have become today and the realization that his humor was a mask for his depression is debilitating.

Perhaps his death has made me look back on my life.  Just maybe his struggle has touched a nerve in my reality that has long been buried.  Depression was never an issue for me but the feeling of inadequacy was certainly in the forefront of my brain as a I struggled through my teenage years.  My sense of humor was a God-send.  It helped me extend myself beyond the boundaries of my comfort zone. It allowed me to engage my peers in a way I felt comfortable.   And it gave me a way to reach out to others with the feeling that I had the safety net of laughter.

Many times the person who is making the jokes is trying to keep the focus as far from reality as possible.  They painstakingly go to great lengths to keep you laughing so you don’t focus on the issues they deal with between the laughs.  They diffuse their reality with comedy but the joke, sadly, is on them.

I go to bed tonight with a heavy heart.  I grieve for the man who could not win the battle against his demons.  I solemnly remember the teenage version of myself who was thankfully able to quell the monsters who lurked in the dark corners of my mind and find more solace in the laughter than perhaps he could.

I can only hope that Robin Williams is finally finding the peace that he so truly deserves.  The world will never be as funny now as it was when he was in it.

(image credit: bu.edu)

 

 

Two kisses

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sunrise-18a

In the wee hours of the morning,

her visits often happen then,

the charge in the air is palpable

and sleep is still in my head.

Her message hangs heavily in the air,

the words are always the same.

“Two kisses I will give you,

to help get you through your day.

 One kiss is to give you courage,

to help you save the world.

The other kiss is to help protect you

from the curve balls that life will hurl”.

Her words soothe me and give me peace

in the last moments of my sleep.

And on my cheeks, as I face the world,

two kisses I shall keep.

~~

This was the poem in my head at 4:00 am.  I will be forever grateful for those kisses.  I miss you mom.

(image credit: santabanta.com)

An unfortunate series of events

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Last night I was scanning through the social media sites, surreptitiously wasting precious moments of my life that I won’t get back, and found a collection of pictures on Facebook that I just had to scan through.  The pictures were of some unfortunate puppy dogs who had run into some bees and the photos had been turned into memes.  As much as I felt sympathy for these poor creatures, I was certainly enjoying the humor of those who wrote the accompanying words.

dog-eats-bee-looks-like-goofy(image credit: weknowmemes.com)

 Fast forward to this morning.  I let Callaway out for her usual morning routine.  I have great faith that she will not run out onto the road since she, like me, is a great creature of habit.  When I went out to let her back in, she wasn’t waiting at the door as per her normal behavior.  I stood on my deck and whistled for her and the jingling of her tags came from a direction that was out of her usual territory.

When her front paws landed on the first stair, I saw the bee on Callaway’s back.  I grabbed the towel that was hanging close by and, after the most ungraceful display of heroics, I swatted the bee away.  But I knew it wasn’t the only strike.  Her usual playful entrance to the house was replaced by a sullen walk to her doggy bed where she lay licking her wounds.  There was no waiting for cookies, only a somewhat embarrassed dog attempting to be brave through her tragedy.

The irony of my previous night’s web surfing did not escape me.  I watched the bumps on my poor dog’s body increase in size and tried to console her as much as I could before I left for work.  In a matter of minutes my dog had gone from svelte to lumpy.

I’m glad I live close to my work because I couldn’t stand the worry and came home at 10:30 this morning to make sure she was okay.  Her pride was a little bruised but her physical condition was stable.  There was nothing a bit of love and a few more cookies couldn’t fix.  As I type this post, the swelling is going down and Callaway’s sense of adventure seems to be somewhat diminished…..for now.  She seems to be content to watch the wildlife from inside the house.

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Peace in pieces

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piece of my heart

Patiently I await a peace in my heart,

wanting to no longer feel bereft.

But sadly there is a piece of my heart,

you took with you when you left.

Stories I want to share with you

now fall on invisible ears.

The longing to hear your reaction

only reduces me to tears.

I know somehow you hear me,

you know exactly what I have to say.

And I know you well enough to know

you’re with me every step of the way.

My heart continues to beat as it should

but an echo can be heard from within.

Only the healing of time can restore my peace

and put back that piece that fits in.

~

(image credit)

Why? Why did the chicken cross the road?

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Lately I have been asking myself that question ad nauseam.  Surely there are a plethora of answers to this age-old question but in my case the punchline is “to take up residence at my neighbor’s house and cover my little slice of heaven with a large grey cloud”.

chicken

(image credit: nbcnews.com)

My house is my oasis.  It shields me from the reality of living in a tourist town by being perfectly located on a road that is five minutes outside of our bustling summer metropolis.   I live on a residential street that has only three houses and during the summer I can see neither of my neighbors through the seasonal foliage.  My home offers seclusion, it embodies peace and it epitomizes tranquility.

Until recently that trifecta of relaxation was a normal daily occurrence – and then things went completely fowl.  The neighbors decided to add six chickens and one rooster to their family.  The rooster, although inept at figuring out that he should only crow in the morning, was not a problem in the beginning.  Until I heard his chatter when I was leaving for work and again when I was coming home, I could not hear his incessant noise when I was safe in the confines of my home.  But the winds of change began blowing.  And by that I mean that the North-West wind pushed the scent of the coop right into my living room.

My dog seems to enjoy the pungent stench of bird but I prefer the oven-roasted-to-perfection variety.  There is a noticeable level of odor when dealing with fecal matter and chicken poop ranks high on the list of loathsome smells.  There have been many occasions when my dear, sweet pooch has come home with the lingering funk of Raccoon poop, or as my dad used to call it “Coon Coloogne”.  But even Raccoon poop can’t hold a candle to chicken shit.  Callaway found the mother load this morning and proceeded to baste herself in what she thought was a wonderful perfume and she was so happy to come home and share it with me.

I bathed her once before I went to work.  I bathed her again when I got home and the scent still permeates my home and my nostrils.  It is the smell that will not die, yet smells like death.  I have sprayed my living room screen with Lysol deodorizer and thankfully the direction of the wind has changed slightly.

If you receive an invitation for a sumptuous roasted chicken dinner, please remember to thank the neighbors on your way home!