I've buried every member of my childhood family
I am the only one left to place flowers on graves
I remember their faces, their voices, their lives
I remember the warmth of their arms around me
and all the old humorous or sad family stories
at first the pain of loss is unbearable all the time
sharp dagger to the heart, cloud over all creation
there is barely a brief moment of sunshine
peeking through the torrents of cold rain
you spend hours at the cemetery, too often
just when you begin to live your life again
and it feels like grief has taken a vacation
you find it was only a weekend getaway
your heart is exploding from bombs of pain
loneliness surrounds you like a dense forest
grief is a winding road, a twisted experience
a torment that eventually invades your soul
less frequently, but the dagger never dulls
we have no choice but to meander through
sharp curves, rocky roads, 'til grief has had its day
THERE ARE SO MANY DIFFERENT KINDS OF GRIEF, PEOPLE EXPERIENCE 'LOSS' IN A MULTITUDE OF WAYS. BUT, HOWEVER 'GRIEFS' DIFFER, IT IS ALWAYS RELATABLE IN THAT IT CAUSES...PAIN!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'D DO WITHOUT GOD TO STRENGTHEN AND TAKE US THROUGH LIFE'S TRIALS. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Belle,
What a heart wrenching post. I love the emotion and how you brought us on a journey that puts grief into proper perspective!
Thanks for sharing!
Peace, love and light,
Amber
This poem is so unlike so many of your others and so deeply personal. But I hope that it helps you get through the loss you are experiencing and somehow use new experiences to move forward. All of my childhood family is still with me except my father.
Your words hurt me. You have a wonderful (and sad) way into my heart, Susan. Each poem I read of yours is a masterpiece of richness. Thank you for you amazing talent.
I think grief is personal, and sometimes the period for grieving differs from one person to another. We all need some solidary times to grieve on our own.
Join me as we travel together on the road called "Aging." I will be sharing my personal experiences with you and offer ideas on how we can better navigate the complex byways of our older years. Grief, healing, generations, ancestors, and more.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
What a heart wrenching post. I love the emotion and how you brought us on a journey that puts grief into proper perspective!
Thanks for sharing!
Peace, love and light,
Amber
Ron
Sandie
Love ya!
Jane