Ink Has Been My Anthem

“Sometimes you never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” ~ Dr. Seuss

Ink has been my anthem

And paper is the hands that hold the dead flowers I long to save.

The years have moved on as fast as a child at play,

but my heart looks back in slow motion the way a teenager heads to chores.

Yesterday held something priceless; a treasure that cannot be replaced like coins in a purse.

Each soul that spoke to my heart comes with me poised and lovely into tomorrow.

We speak of older times; the memory of birth and dying.

The conversations long since closed are re-opened like boxes after the big move.

I pull them out one by one and re-hear your voice within my heart.

Soft like a silk sheet I wrap myself in the thought of you,

and sorrow both comforts and hurts at the same time.

When I was a child, I sang to ease those pains.

Belting the same tunes like a mockingbird in October.

Voices carry and music lifts us to places our feet can no longer take us.

That is why I write poetry and that is why I sing.

Linking with Shay's Word Garden Word List where this week the featured writer is my lovely friend Susie! Thank you Shay for another wonderful word list!!

Also linking with the Muse.

 

The Waves of Grief

 

  

The ocean has its ebbings — so has grief. ~Thomas Campbell

I recently asked a dear loved one who has been struggling with Covid, how they were feeling. Their reply was, “it comes in waves”.  I was relieved to hear that they were not constantly feeling awful, but as I lingered on their words, it occurred to me how grief can be like that.

When I think back on the memory of my earliest loss, it seems like ages ago.  Sitting at a hospital back in 1972 with nine-year-old legs dangling and swinging from the hard waiting room chairs. I was unaware of what words truly awaited me.  A child’s heart is a mansion of hopes, full with the unknowing of what can be lost. With all that we had gone through during the last few years with my mother suffering with mental illness and physical pain, I still was not expecting the news that would come my way.

I have written about that day and the loss of my Mom many times, but the memory of it has been relived in my heart and mind over and over again.  Like that description of illness, it ebbs and flows as waves do.  It comes to me in the face of mothers, and the cries of children in their arms. Sometimes it is in the silence of what is, and other times it is in the loud clamor of what will never be.  It can overtake me like an ocean, or merely sprinkle like a christening, but either way, it envelopes and then gradually lets go, drifting away like a ship at sea.

It has been almost 50 years since the day I lost her, and though time has a way of easing the ache, I have learned that grief is not something we ever completely lay down like paddles of a canoe.  When we lose someone, we love in this world, they still hold a special place within our heart that no one else can fill, and in our day to day life, many things can serve as a reminder of what we miss so deeply.  In those moments, I can once again be the child in a waiting room with news too hard to hold all at once.  Yes, grief comes in waves whether it is yesterday or decades ago, and like that child so many years ago, my heart has learned this lesson over and over again.

 

I dedicate this to all those mourning in this world, and to Amber Whitworth, my beautiful daughter who not only has endured great loss, but leads the grief ministry at her church.

 

The Journey to My Destination

It seems that I get some of my best ideas for writing when I am driving. Unfortunately, that is not the best time to try to "jot" something down, unless I want it to be my last. I have a little recorder, but it never seems to be in the right place at the appropriate time, not to mention the fact, that batteries seem to be an issue. My ultimate point is that sometimes when I come to a red light or turn, I realize that I have no recollection of the last ten minutes on the road. What a horrifying thought! This has happened to me too many times to mention, and I am still alive and kicking. I know that there are guardian angels that I keep busy on a weekly basis, and I am very thankful for them. I don't always remember my idea when I get to my destination, but at least I don't kill anyone on my way, and I get there in one piece.