My hands were sore. I needed to stop. There would be time to work on it again tomorrow.
Maybe when my task was completed, the images would stop flooding my mind. Then I could resume my life. Who knew that memories I had stored away could take over any day they chose? Instead of the adult who looked back at me in the mirror, I became a child whose heart would beat out of her chest. The memories were crystal clear.
It always started the same. An air of apprehension would permeate the room. The noise level heightened and we…
“Tomorrow you can all go back to school,” Dad said, handing my siblings and I a short note explaining our absence.
Was he kidding? How were we supposed to face our friends, our teachers? I wasn’t ready. I just wanted to stay home. To sit on the black and gold rocking chair we had bought our mom, in the basement she decorated with pretty ivy wallpaper she’d never see again. That became the only place I felt comfort, rocking back and forth, pretending our nightmare never happened.
I remembered one week prior, listening to “Sealed With a Kiss,” by Brian…
The Pandemic Word Challenge
Each morning, like you, I wake up to find we’re still in this pandemic. Taking a walk in the cemetery, I try to clear my troubled mind and reflect. I was asked to join this challenge by Jordin James sharing what one word keeps me afloat during this time. And my word?
My word is Remember.
Last night, I laid in bed ruminating how I’m getting through these days.
To many, things look hopeless. And how could they not? …
I remember the day
you slipped away,
the day that wouldn’t end.
It changed my life,
changed my world.
Not because you died,
Life as I knew it,
life as I wanted it,
And I moved to
a place without you,
an empty place.
People want us to move on.
What does that even mean?
To act as if everything’s okay
when it’s not?
Death changed life.
So now what?
Shall I pretend so others are
or can I be
who I am?
Grief came when you left.
And grief stayed.
I remember the time my husband and I sought counseling, going through some struggles. Honestly, I thought our problems were his.
It really surprised me when the counselor said, “I’d really like to see you again, Anne.”
Week after week, I went to counseling and learned things I had never known before. Celia suggested I read a book, by Townsend and Cloud called, Boundaries. I was instructed to read through the book and we’d talk about it each time we met.
I had no problem with this assignment. Maybe I’d learn something new about myself. …
You never know what someone’s gone through,
you never know where they have been.
And yet, we often make our judgments,
outwardly, or deep within.
I’ve made mistakes with lots of people,
I’ve even judged, without a clue.
And I’m not proud of my mistakes,
I simply want to share with you.
Some friends I had, fell by the wayside,
with other friends, I pulled away.
I’m not quite certain why it happened,
as I write these words today.
Sometimes a button deep within me,
it got pressed and I got scared. …
A poem about God’s presence
The silence is so deafening,
I see no one around.
There‘s no one I can talk to,
and my loneliness abounds.
And yet, inside my spirit,
I know this cannot be.
For God has always promised,
he would stay right next to me.
Could it be that even He,
is weary of my pain?
No, my child, he says to me.
My strength remains the same.
God knows about our loneliness,
He feels the things we feel.
And we can be ourselves with Him,
with nothing to conceal.
Just know there will be dreary days,
A poem about grief
Our walls can no longer hold laughter,
like they always have done before.
But instead, it’s like sadness
decides to move in,
and then quietly closes the door.
Grief is a quiet intruder,
who will show up whenever he will.
And the silence that’s left,
when their eyes close in death,
is a silence that cannot be still.
And so we must travel this journey,
with our hearts that lie shattered and sore.
We’ll have others keep watching
each step that we take,
for they want things to be like before.
You can’t take the heart…