When I look up in the sky
And I see your spirit soar
Mindful that I'm stuck down here
Thinking of before
I pray I cross your mind
As you sail among the clouds
And that you'll visit me
The next time you come around
I loved you with my all
But only pulled you down
I should've known my heart
Would keep you anchored on the ground
I've let you go, my dear
As you fly into the sky
I hope your fading thoughts of me
Will pass you by-and-by
My Precious Momma...
I hugged you, talked to you, kissed you.
I spent Blessed, special time with you,
on your that, last day here
...and now,
I'm supposed to go on living without you,
My Precious Momma.
~
How is that even possible,
when you were the first person I ever loved
and the first person,
who ever loved me,
My Precious Momma?
When you were my best friend,
my confidant, my advice 'go-to' and giver?
My hand-holder, my cheering squad,
my example of strength, of grace, of dignity,
of a deep and steadfast Faith.
Just like that...54 years
and 20 days, all the days I ever knew,
of living in this world with you in it~
and then, suddenly...no more.
~
My Precious Momma,
When you left this earth,
Heaven surely got even more beautiful,
as you arrived
and your smiling Irish eyes,
just went wide-open in utter awe,
as you touched the glorious face of Jesus, at last.
Then, as you turned all around,
dancing in delightful glory,
restored, renewed,
with no pain, no struggle, no worry, no fear...
and not ever again.
~
Oh My Precious Momma,
you certainly more than earned your reward,
for your trials you had, here on this earth.
For that I am so grateful, to our Lord,
that you suffer no more,
and while I long to have you back,
I would never wish you away from Paradise
and back to pain and struggles and strife.
~
No My Precious Momma...
For I would rather continue
the time I have left here, on earth,
with my own pain and struggles and strife
and live as Faithful a life as you did,
being as strong a woman as you were,
My Precious Momma,
knowing that someday soon,
it will be my time to go to be with you,
there, Home in Heaven.
~
But until then...
until Father God calls me Home too,
I will still, forever and ever, be loving you,
be missing you, be aching inside
and be so very lost without you...
My Precious Momma.
07-17-2020
Verse 1:
Always on the outside, looking in.
I never knew love found me here.
Until you take me on,
Babe, I cannot do it without you.
For, you are my heaven.
Eternally your’s to keep,
You have my spirit.
Lead and guide me.
Chorus:
I am just an outsider looking in.
Do not judge me if you do not know me.
I have had my shares of issues and trauma.
Don’t break my trust
Once it is earned.
I can see no one but you.
Only you will do.
It’s you I see in my dreams
And in my future.
‘Cause I know, we’re better together.
‘Cause we’re better than ever.
Verse 2:
Since you were away,
Everything has changed.
Only the distance between you and I has increased.
Yet, it’s never enough.
I keep on wanting and needing you in my life.
But, now, it’s time to say our goodbyes.
For, this relationship of ours could have been something more
If only you’d given us a chance.
If only you’d make the first move.
If only you’d let me in.
If only you’d told me how you really felt for me.
You know me well
But, what is it that you feel?
Bridge:
If I already knew that
You were mine to keep,
I wouldn’t have wasted time.
Now, it’s time for me to put myself into your hands.
Don’t let me go.
For, the grass is not greener on the other side.
I’ve been there without you
But without you, is something I cannot be or do.
‘Cause I know, we’re better together.
‘Cause we’re better than ever.
Always on the outside, looking in.
Bright constellations shimmering against the ocean floor. My grandfather was born for the sea, or maybe it was the sea that had been brought upon him. He stared down to the blue and looked up at the twinkling stars and couldn’t ever imagine a world without these peppering kisses of droplets sprinkling against his freckled face.
Everything needs an engine. Even a mighty boat.
February night, cold air sneaking its way through the door that was ajar. Sneaking its way through his veins and all the way to his heart. Rhythm suddenly stopped, the beats were uncertain. A nurse walked in, called the doctor and made sure to close the curtain. It was under attack, his heart that is. The mother organ. Only physically though, his love and kindness still open. And that was it for a while, that’s what kept him alive for so long. Not very long but still longer than most.
Who would’ve thought that the young sailorman, the scuba diving king, would be depending on a machine to keep his heart beating and the summer air clean. But there It was and here we were and even though he couldn’t form many words, I still know if he could he’d be joking everywhere and finding a way, in his mind, to still crack a joke.
A pacemaker. Artificial life. But nothing artificial about it said my grandmother, his wife, because after all he was still here and that will was what mattered. Little did we know that his biggest dreams had been shattered. Yes, he loved us, and he loved being with us and his family visiting did help him recover but what is it that happens when your major interest is over? Would it feel like everything was out of order? My dad said he wasn’t sure, but oh boy I knew it. How could I put in doubt his love for the sea and fishing and doing? A hardworking man he was, you can’t just expect him to be okay and resting. Not when he’d rather be put in action and fighting and testing.
A pacemaker, they call them. Those little machines that send electric shocks so your heart’s valves stay open. A pace, a rhythm, a beat. Could really help you live but, apparently, not to stay on your feet. That’s when I understood and that’s when I saw it; my grandpa’s heart didn’t beat to pump blood, it beat to imitate oceans.
We took him to the beach, to see it for one last time. The pacemaker seemed to smile, his eyes seemed to shine and everything was okay, at least for a while, at least for some time. Every heart beats to its own rhythm and that’s completely okay, you just have to find what is yours and what makes you brave.
September afternoon, the old man passed away, the pacemaker stopped. It was bound to happen sometime anyway but I still cried. It’s not easy to see someone you love die. My father sniffed and showed me his closed hand, I looked at it and he opened it to see what it had. The small object, that thing that kept my grandfather alive for so long. It wasn’t so away from him just hours ago. I sighed and closed his hand again, told him maybe it would be useful to donate the thing to some friend. A man so alive once, had depended on a machine and oh, so naïve I was to think it was only the sea that gave breath to his lungs and helped him feel free. But everything was okay now, it was time for him to rest. When someone is alive so much and has given his best it’s okay…it’s okay for them to just stay…and sleep and snore so deep. So deep as the ocean and the deep blue sea, dreaming to the beat of a pacemaker and to heaven to flee.
Walking in darkness,
sometimes we forget
that light exists.
We fixate on what hurts us
deriving identity
from our pain.
We look away
from the hands
that could rescue us.
Aching
Longing
Filled with regret
Alone
Lost
Our vision blurred
our perspective limited
our views tainted
Conflict.
Contention.
Crisis.
Our constant companions.
Forgetting how to feel,
how to love.
Forgetting who we are,
letting shame define us.
Fire
Anger
Hatred
Self-loathing
Threaten to consume us
Unquenchable
Unfixable
Unrelenting
Everything we believe about ourselves
and the world
and the people around us
is a lie,
Warped by our own twisted thoughts
This is OUR world
But it is not THE world
Change is possible.
For you, for me, for all who see
through darkened eyes.
It comes in small moments of clarity,
like a single ray of sunlight
slicing through the clouds
The road to peace
can be a long one,
but the journey begins
with hope.
I am saddened by your sorrow; at the departure of your grandpa.
May he rest a while with doves of peace.
Residing now with his creator amongst the star.
From toil and ill health his eternal spirit lives on; by death's release.
So don't be disheartened by his demise.
Your grandpa will always love you still; and be guiding and guarding your way from afar.
Love never ending and that cannot marr:
Your memories of your loving grandpa.
Keep well, safe and live for life never ceasing:
Your loving grandma, Nan Anita.
By Anita Griffiths
"Sorry to hear about your loss"'s
Are wooden and rigid
Templates learnt and regurgitated
Out of the mouths of puppets.
There are the hard-eyed portraits
On the wall with nothing
To say. There are caricatures
Who never cease to stop.
"Are you okay?" trickles out
Of the mouths of the mindless.
Questions back me into corners and
I have no choice but to nod my head.
The false testimony that is "yes"
Is as wooden and rigid as the rest.
There are too many timber slabs
Around me - I want to burn them all.
Let me set fire to your words
Before you bother to let them out.
I am sincerely sorry that I have
A loss for you to be so sorry about.
May the match put an end
To your stilted statements and constant
Questions. Unless in that corner,
I can find my grandmother again.
A blink, a breath,
A heartbeat away.
We own not, tomorrow-
Nor even, today.
Here but only briefly,
A mere moment of all time.
Will we ever grow old?
Or pass away, in our prime?
In the grand scheme of life,
It matters not, when or where.
But how we lived in each moment,
Of all our joys, and our despair.
So tell them, you love them-
While your heart is still beating,
For we own not, tomorrow,
And today...is so fleeting...