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.
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.