Tonight I totally lost all semblance of strength and just burst into tears. Not a day goes by I don’t think of my daughter, it’s seven years and the pan is as raw today as it was Feb 19, 2011. Generally, I can think of her with happiness and a bit of a trembling lip when the fact she is gone hits me. Yet tonight I lost it as if I had just received that horrible phone call. I know the agony of losing her will be with me until the day I pass away but Lord I wish it didn’t hurt so bad the majority of the time.
My immune system and other ailments have me weak physically and stress has had me for a really long time, depression as well. I just thought I was doing so well and if others were around and hubs weren’t asleep they would be putting me in a straitjacket.
I don’t know why I am writing this just needed to get it off my chest. I need no pity or comfort I just needed to write it.
The first day of Daylight Savings Time (DST), it is a dark, gloomy, cloudy day feeling like winter more than a nearness of Spring. I had hoped for a bright glorious day to give us all huge smiles. It would be a day with one less hour of the fake in the WH and his crew.
Instead, it was a day that had a ray of beautiful sun beamed through the window onto the hardwood floor, I would have tripped over it.
We place our hearts in the hard frozen ground
shedding tears over the coffin turning them to icicles to
melt and flow again, as they will time and again from this day forward.
We’ve placed the spray of flowers, plucking one or two as a
memento as if we should ever need reminding.
Young and old we put in beautiful boxes, subconsciously
believing the more beautiful the box the more others
know how deep our love.
We place them one at a time or 17, 26, or 100’s
No matter what has caused us to buy tiny plots of ground
all lined up with numbers and names individually or in masses.
Down into the hardened ground, the dark, to never see the light again Never to laugh, dance, love, live.
Fragments of dust, the best of us is gone.
So hard to accept, to cope, to understand
Why the best of us is gone.
© Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved
I feel the weariness of my years,
reflection reveals the wrinkles, the gray, the tears
Dull pain in the eyes, eyes with sparkle washed
away like the tide washing sand away
Washing away time, time that has stood still for some.
I seek peace and love, music to soothe, a sleeping child
A fresh flower, a moonlit drive to calm, a way to say
what needs to be said before time stands still.
I feel the weariness of my years, day by day
hour by hour.
© Copyright 2018, All Rights Reserved
Someday you will find me in a dark dirty neighborhood bar
where beer is served so cold it hurts your teeth to slurp it down
where cold sandwiches and a bag of chips are served for
breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you last that long
I’ll have crumbled Marlboro packs around me and ashes on
my shirt, burn holes in my old faded jeans.
If you look for me someday and I’m not at the bar I will be
at the old Wurlitzer playing all the oldies a dollar at a time,
Someday you will find me passed out on my sofa a
cigarette burnt to my fingers, whiskey bottle in my hand
the old turntable scratching the end of the song.
Someday you’ll look at me with sympathy and disgust
written on your face, wondering how I got to such a state.
Just know that somewhere sometime I don’t know when
my someday of happiness, love, life left me to this
darkened world of depression and this dirty lonely life.
Silver stars sparkle
on the mirror lake
The air glistening
turns to crystals
covering land and trees
freezing in long icy
drips of reflecting silver
Skaters glide swiftly
the moon guiding
them round and round
through jumps and spins
Icy crystals mirror silver stars
and winter life.
As the chrysalis bursts open
A butterfly emerges with gossamer wings
Shaking itself free it takes flight
looking for the food of life which comes thru
Nectar in all the colors of the garden.
As we shake off 2017 let us become
Like the butterfly, let us emerge
Taking strength from the nectar
Offered in the many colors of us
Let us listen to our many voices,
Learning from each other
Share love, peace and understanding
Move onward do not look back and
Remember we are stronger together.
Daughters, if there was one thing I could be
I would be a lantern lighting the way of your life’s path
Shining the way to make life easier and without woes
So you would never have to fight for or with the many foes
I would turn back tides, open doors wide
removing all blocks to your success
If I could light your path to make life easier
Even the strongest storms I would deter
I am always here for you my precious two
To cheer you when down and blue
Do Not worry when life gets tough
As sometimes the journey is rough
Just know in your heart I am here
I will always be close and near
If I could be but that one thing you need
It would be the lantern to light your path
To teach and help you to plant a little seed
A seed of love to pass along on the path
you may someday light for another.
As a small child, my grammie at close to her fifties did not hesitate to take in her oldest sons children one daughter and two sons. she was a true taskmaster believing the “idle hands are the devils’ tools” so she kept us busy but the boys not so much. me I worked from sun up to past sun down and seemed the older I got the worse she was about keeping me busy, ahh but I took off there for a minute.
now I am older, wiser and less tolerant of laziness, lack of common sense and have no concept of a 40 hour week young people. In that vein with the oldest daughter if I had nothing else for her to do, in keeping the idle hands busy I had her string buttons. My gram had several jars of buttons collected over the years and when we complained as children do “I’m bored” out came the button jars and the thick quilting thread and needles for the larger heavier buttons thread of regular everyday quality for the others. We would sit in her sewing room if she needed to keep her eagle eye on us or we could sit on the porch and thread buttons …all the blues together, all the colors should have their own thread white or beige, and on and on. Hope there were enough buttons to last many a lifetime, for if buttons didn’t keep our attention there was always silver to polish or baseboards to wash.
in memory of my gram, loved and missed so very much, my gram but my mom as well.
RIP Catherine Marie Williams March 24, 1905, ~ March 30th, 2005 she lived a wonderful life on her own in her own home until the day she transitioned, She was 100 years and 6 days.
I was five years old when Grandpa Williams picked up my mother, my two brothers and myself at the Greyhound station. tired hungry and of course cranky I’m sure. Poor momma, we had to have been a handful on that long cross-country ride. Arriving at the house we took our baths and a nap.Grandma had been busy cooking, don’t remember what it was but I’m sure it was good.
Momma took us into the living room sat us down Grandma holding my baby brother he was still in diapers now I appreciate what she had to go through on that bus trip.
Anyway, she proceeded to tell us that she was going shopping to get us some new clothes we had sunny California clothes not winter cold February in Colorado. She would be back in a few hours. she kissed us goodbye hugged us and walked out the door, don’t remember seeing her again until I was twelve.Life was good at Grandma & Grandpa’s, my youngest aunt was still home and my uncle he was 5 years older so he was like a big brother to me. As I was the only girl expectations were different for me I had to do the ‘woman of the house chores’ and as my brothers grew they were taken up by Grandpa and made to be ‘young men’ God he was so frickin cruel to them. I mean yes, he molested me from 5 to 12 but he beat my brothers , he belittled like I had never heard and he did it to my uncle as well. No wonder my Dad wasn’t there and an alcoholic.
It got to me that he was so respected and feared within the community, later I found out why but then I only feared him ..he could look at me sitting at the table doing homework and tell me I needed to go to bed and I knew what was coming …so I wouldn’t move and he would tell me again tell your Grandmother you are going to bed. I wet that chair so many times from fear, Grandma finally covered it in plastic.
We never went hungry but we were always the outsiders and that was more due to grandma making all of our clothes when others at school had store bought and we were raised as Jehovah’s Witnesses so we were not able to participate in things like the pledge or birthday parties Christmas etc. And they were raised during the depression all they knew was work so that is what we were taught.
Don’t get me wrong we had play time, kick the can, hide n seek , red light blue light . but our life consisted mainly of work. I don’t remember laughter in that house yet my happiest memories are from there, because Grandma loved us she didn’t tell us she showed us everyday , we were never a burden to her as we were to him. Towards the last days there she stuck up for us more and more to her detriment as he liked to slap her when she ‘got smart’.
My aunt eventually left home and uncle went into high school , we grew and learned and existed, I don’t think they knew how to tell a child anything about growing up we were not told we could be anything we wanted to be , that we were smart or that education was the way to better ourselves we went because the laws said we had to.
We had to attend the ‘Hall’ or Bible studies many times during the week , learned a scripture a week that we had to stand up and read along with the books of the Bible. that was always so creepy for me as our studies were held in the home of an old genteel couple from Germany and he gave me the creeps. All the people attending were old false teethed wrinkled smelling old people smells. Eventually my brothers didn’t have to go but Grandma kept taking me. to this day I cant’t remember a scripture or the order of the books of the Bible.