Grief

A million emotions

Mask grief:

Anger and madness

Contrition and control

Exhaustion and endurance

Helplessness and hopelessness

Too many to name. So much to bear.

The hurt reaches into each pore,

Slender branches poking and prodding

Taking over until the misery spills out faster

Than we can process it.

And that is why we

Weep.

A Friend’s Loss

We bloggers form an odd circle of friendship. I follow a great many blogs by people from all over the world. Some blogs are written by people I actually know personally, while others are penned by people I’ve never met, and most likely will never meet. Miles and miles, and often oceans, separate us.

Many of the people I follow also follow me. We get to know each other and I, at least, look forward to their next photographs or poems or essays on life. I care about my blogging friends

Yesterday, one blogger shared with us that he’d just learned of his adult son’s death. His post was real and raw and I began crying as I read it aloud to my husband. My heart hurt, and I felt so helpless that I just wanted to go to bed and cover my head with the covers.

My prayers are with him and his family. I hope they know just how many people are thinking of them, and sending love their way, and crying tears that they will never see, but are very real and heartfelt.

Peace.

Easy Times

i read the news this morning of a friend’s mother having a stroke,
and another’s father breaking a hip.

i heard of an adult child who fled
his responsibilites and left his
wife and children for a fling.

i thought about the pain we experienced
as young parents, worrying about our
infants’ developmental stages.

i recalled the nights spent agonizing
over my teenagers’ angst and woes,
their heartaches and heartbreaks.

i wept when reflecting on the loss
of my parents, both gone too soon
from my life; too young from theirs.

i realized there are no easy times,
nothing worthwhile comes without cost.
the joys of loving our only reward.

  
Recently a beloved uncle passed away after a long illness. When I shared the news on Facebook a friend who’d recently experienced a similar loss commented that we are at a tough age. 

I knew what she meant. I’ve lost both of my parents, as have most of my closest friends. Several in my age group have experienced the traumatic loss of a spouse, and some the loss of a child.

We are the sandwich generation, those of us in our mid-to late 50’s. Some still have children at home while simultaneously caring for aging parents. I would almost say it is the most difficult time. But then I started thinking and the poem appeared.

There are no easy times. We might be fooled for a second by a lull in the action, but every stage has its pitfalls. The love is worth it, though. Just keep plugging. 

Peace, people!

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