Driving
Driving driving
Panicked and heartsick
Having gotten the call
And knowing time was short
How long till I get there
Can't leave house to get on the road until I make plans
Have to make plans
Daughter has to be ok
And taken care of
Lesson plans have to be sent
Gotta get there on time
To say goodbye and try to tell her
In inadequate words how much I love her
To kiss her and touch her for the last time
Driving driving
Have to make it
It only takes two hours
He said it could be from two to forty eight hours
Hoping with all my heart it's the latter
Driving driving
Remembering other times when I got previous calls
Come, time is short
To tell those I love how much I love them
To kiss them for the last time
To hold their hands while their lives slipped away
To be there in that sacred space while the angels lovingly and graciously
Led them away to a new existence
Always made it in time
Driving driving
Other cars passing me
Have to go faster
No police stopping me
Almost there
At the parking garage and leaving car
Going straight to the hospital
Have to go through emergency room because it's late
Have to get a pass to her room
Surely I got here in time
I always did before
Another phone call
She's passed away
Time stops
Heart slips
Breath catches and throat constricts
I didn't make it
I always did before
Raw numbness
Enter her room
Into the unbearable sanctity
Of a vast cathedral
Dense with silence
And all that that means
Hugged by siblings who were such blessings to her
And she to them
...and she to me
See her lying there
just like she used to when she was sleeping
Impossible to believe
Shaking shaking
Can't stop shaking
Sitting sitting
And knowing that time has stopped forever
By Chrissy Bell
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Momma It Can’t Be True
Momma, It Can’t be true that you’re gone
I love you so much
That night when I saw you, it looked like you were sleeping
You often slept like that
You couldn’t be gone
That would mean the end of all security
The end of unconditional knowledge of love
The end of everything that I knew of home
It couldn’t be true
You couldn’t be gone
How can you be gone?
I feel a constant urge to call you
And to visit you with gifts
I always wanted to give you presents
Anything to give you joy
How could you be gone?
But I know you are
You’re gone into an invisible realm
And now I’m looking for new sources of security
New perceptions of unconditional love
And a new way of looking at home
There’s truth in that
The answers to my searches haven’t come yet
The hope that I hold to find them is still there
And what I keep is the knowledge that you were so present
For my entire life
What’s left is gratefulness for having been your child
And love for you
By Chrissy Bell
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Grief is a place
Grief is a place
Full of memories and tears
Walled in by unspeakable vines
That connect us to our loss
To leave that place
Is to still be corded to
The past
But the pain becomes more bearable
And the walls become windows
To our connection
I’m still waiting to leave this place
And time will lead me out
But nothing will uncord me
From those windows
And the love that connected me to that place
By Chrissy Bell
“‘All sorrows can be borne if you put them into a story or tell a story
about them.’”
Isak Dineson qtd. in Phelps and Emig 411
Grief is a place
Full of memories and tears
Walled in by unspeakable vines
That connect us to our loss
To leave that place
Is to still be corded to
The past
But the pain becomes more bearable
And the walls become windows
To our connection
I’m still waiting to leave this place
And time will lead me out
But nothing will uncord me
From those windows
And the love that connected me to that place
By Chrissy Bell
“‘All sorrows can be borne if you put them into a story or tell a story
about them.’”
Isak Dineson qtd. in Phelps and Emig 411
Friday, January 13, 2012
We Look For Signs
We Look For Signs
We look for signs
Because we love her
Any sign of her
We sniff to smell her perfume
Wafting through the air
redolent of Chanel Number Five or Red Door
or just her brand of soap
We listen with radar intensity to hear her voice
Calling our name
Yearning For a message
Because we love her
We place intention and meaning on every object and blade
Of grass she may have trod upon in the past
We read of her memories and strive to make connections
With objects, possessions that she had
That we now own and treasure
We see her face on the walls, the ceiling, on book's pages,
On cameo rings
We dream and sometimes imagine that we visit with her
In the ether of a heavenly place
The phone rings and we hope with the intensity of
A thousand suns that it's her
We are her children
We love her
And we look for signs
By Chrissy Bell
We look for signs
Because we love her
Any sign of her
We sniff to smell her perfume
Wafting through the air
redolent of Chanel Number Five or Red Door
or just her brand of soap
We listen with radar intensity to hear her voice
Calling our name
Yearning For a message
Because we love her
We place intention and meaning on every object and blade
Of grass she may have trod upon in the past
We read of her memories and strive to make connections
With objects, possessions that she had
That we now own and treasure
We see her face on the walls, the ceiling, on book's pages,
On cameo rings
We dream and sometimes imagine that we visit with her
In the ether of a heavenly place
The phone rings and we hope with the intensity of
A thousand suns that it's her
We are her children
We love her
And we look for signs
By Chrissy Bell
Thursday, January 12, 2012
She Is Who You Seek
She Is Who You Seek
Dedicated to Terry W. Stroh who I seek
What is the value of a mother's smile?
It's only the most important thing in the universe
When beaming down on a child.
Adult and grown, it's the most vital part
Of a person's breath .
When that special smile is full of tenderness
And sparkles for each child with every ounce of the joy of life
There is no gauge to contain it.
What is the size of a mother's hug?
It can't be measured by inches or feet.
It can only be told in the results
Of children's sweet
Hugs back when they say "I love you".
When her hug is given freely and without guile,
Wholeheartedly and with "All My Love",
There is no vessel to store it.
What is the breadth of irrepressible laughter
That bubbles up instantaneously and at no moment's notice
And with contagion becomes the sound we all hearken to?
When her laughter evolves to dancing and singing,
and all of her children follow
There is nothing that can capture that effervescent feeling...
What is the distance of limitless encouragement
That includes soaring expectations for each of her brood...
Which every child follows, though no order is given?
When every child strives to be "the best person that he can be"
And all have seen pride in her eyes which
Means the world to each...
There is nothing in this world that will breach.
How can you measure these things?
You can't.
You can only treasure them and keep them,
Especially when life looks bleak
And she is who you seek.
By Chrissy Bell
Dedicated to Terry W. Stroh who I seek
What is the value of a mother's smile?
It's only the most important thing in the universe
When beaming down on a child.
Adult and grown, it's the most vital part
Of a person's breath .
When that special smile is full of tenderness
And sparkles for each child with every ounce of the joy of life
There is no gauge to contain it.
What is the size of a mother's hug?
It can't be measured by inches or feet.
It can only be told in the results
Of children's sweet
Hugs back when they say "I love you".
When her hug is given freely and without guile,
Wholeheartedly and with "All My Love",
There is no vessel to store it.
What is the breadth of irrepressible laughter
That bubbles up instantaneously and at no moment's notice
And with contagion becomes the sound we all hearken to?
When her laughter evolves to dancing and singing,
and all of her children follow
There is nothing that can capture that effervescent feeling...
What is the distance of limitless encouragement
That includes soaring expectations for each of her brood...
Which every child follows, though no order is given?
When every child strives to be "the best person that he can be"
And all have seen pride in her eyes which
Means the world to each...
There is nothing in this world that will breach.
How can you measure these things?
You can't.
You can only treasure them and keep them,
Especially when life looks bleak
And she is who you seek.
By Chrissy Bell
Monday, January 9, 2012
Leaving a Dear One
Leaving a dear one
The family is not destroyed,
but transformed.
A part of it enters the invisible.
We believe that dying leads to absence,
when it really is a hidden presence.
We believe that it creates infinite distance,
when it does away with all distance
it returns to the spirit
what was for a time found in the flesh.
Every time someone leaves home and passes away
those left behind gain a link in heaven.
Heaven
is no longer home to angels,
unknown saints and a mysterious God,
but it becomes familiar.
It is the family house,
the house up above, so to speak.
From up there to down here,
memory, helping hands, calls
carry on.
F. Sertillanges
The family is not destroyed,
but transformed.
A part of it enters the invisible.
We believe that dying leads to absence,
when it really is a hidden presence.
We believe that it creates infinite distance,
when it does away with all distance
it returns to the spirit
what was for a time found in the flesh.
Every time someone leaves home and passes away
those left behind gain a link in heaven.
Heaven
is no longer home to angels,
unknown saints and a mysterious God,
but it becomes familiar.
It is the family house,
the house up above, so to speak.
From up there to down here,
memory, helping hands, calls
carry on.
F. Sertillanges
St. Francis - Mom had a small statue of St. Francis - She was definitely a testament to these words
a prayer of St. Francis
For it is in giving that we receive …….it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. –Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
Journey's End - this one speaks to me
Journey's End
REST AWHILE MY WEARY TRAVELLER
YOUR EARTHLY JOURNEY IS AT END
SAY GOODBYE TO THOSE WHO’LL MOURN YOU
AQUAINTENCE, FAMILY, FRIEND
STEADFAST WIFE AND NOBLE MOTHER
ALL YOUR DUTIES ARE COMPLETE
YOUR REWARD A NEW ADVENTURE
TAKE THIS GIFT AND BE AT PEACE
ALL YOUR DUTIES ARE COMPLETE
YOUR REWARD A NEW ADVENTURE
TAKE THIS GIFT AND BE AT PEACE
LEAVE BEHIND THE TEARS OF LOVED ONES
LAY YOUR HEAVY BURDEN DOWN
CAST ASIDE YOUR WORN OUT BODY
PAIN AND SUFFERING NOW BEGONE
LAY YOUR HEAVY BURDEN DOWN
CAST ASIDE YOUR WORN OUT BODY
PAIN AND SUFFERING NOW BEGONE
JUST AHEAD SOMEONE IS WAITING
WHO HAS PASSED THROUGH HEAVEN’S DOOR
ANTICIPATING YOUR ARRIVAL
A CELEBRATION IS IN STORE
WHO HAS PASSED THROUGH HEAVEN’S DOOR
ANTICIPATING YOUR ARRIVAL
A CELEBRATION IS IN STORE
PREPARE TO STEP BEYOND THE CURTAIN
SEPARATING LIFE FROM DEATH
ANSWERS TO ALL OF LIFE’S MYSTERIES
THIS AND MORE YOU SHALL POSESS
SEPARATING LIFE FROM DEATH
ANSWERS TO ALL OF LIFE’S MYSTERIES
THIS AND MORE YOU SHALL POSESS
THOUGHTS OF YOU WILL BRING US COMFORT
YOU’RE IN OUR HEARTS, YOU ARE NOT GONE
AND IN OUR TIME WE’LL COME TO JOIN YOU
YOU’RE IN OUR HEARTS, YOU ARE NOT GONE
AND IN OUR TIME WE’LL COME TO JOIN YOU
ONE LAST FAREWELL AND JOURNEY ON
Sharon Catley
High Flight - I imagine that this is what it's rather like for Mom right now
High Flight Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings. Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun split clouds - and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of; wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air; Up, up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace, Where never lark nor even eagle flew; And while, with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space Put out my hand and touched the face of God. Fl. Officer John Gillespie McGee 1922-1941
Poems that have helped
Somehow the following poems speak to me. Not sure why, but here they are:
HOW WE SURVIVE
If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.
If not,
there is only the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart;
of being reminded
that nothing is permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair.
We are all dancing
on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high
we can't see the bottom.
One by one,
we lose those we love most
into the dark ravine.
So we must cherish them
without reservation.
Now.
Today.
This minute.
We will lose them
or they will lose us
someday.
This is certain.
There is no time for bickering.
And their loss
will leave a great pit in our hearts;
a pit we struggle to avoid
during the day
and fall into at night.
Some,
unable to accept this loss,
unable to determine
the worth of life without them,
jump into that black pit
spiritually or physically,
hoping to find them there.
And some survive
the shock,
the denial,
the horror,
the bargaining,
the barren, empty aching,
the unanswered prayers,
the sleepless nights
when their breath is crushed
under the weight of silence
and all that it means.
Somehow, some survive all that and,
like a flower opening after a storm,
they slowly begin to remember
the one they lost
in a different way...
The laughter,
the irrepressible spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.
And in time, they fill the pit
with other memories
the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry.
We will always cry.
But with loving reflection
more than hopeless longing.
And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.
Mark Rickerby
Faith
Author Unknown
<http://www.inspirationpeak.com/share-a-poem.html>
Doubt sees the obstacles
Faith sees the way
Doubt sees the darkest night
Faith sees the day
Doubt dreads to take a step
Faith soars on high.
Doubt questions 'who believes?'
Faith answers, 'I.'
That was Mom. She lived her faith. She always said "Be not afraid." Her vision for her children wasn't limited by mountains or any barriers. She was a true believer. She didn't look at the darkness, she looked toward the rising sun, constantly encouraging us to "be the best that you can be."
HOW WE SURVIVE
If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.
If not,
there is only the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart;
of being reminded
that nothing is permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair.
We are all dancing
on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high
we can't see the bottom.
One by one,
we lose those we love most
into the dark ravine.
So we must cherish them
without reservation.
Now.
Today.
This minute.
We will lose them
or they will lose us
someday.
This is certain.
There is no time for bickering.
And their loss
will leave a great pit in our hearts;
a pit we struggle to avoid
during the day
and fall into at night.
Some,
unable to accept this loss,
unable to determine
the worth of life without them,
jump into that black pit
spiritually or physically,
hoping to find them there.
And some survive
the shock,
the denial,
the horror,
the bargaining,
the barren, empty aching,
the unanswered prayers,
the sleepless nights
when their breath is crushed
under the weight of silence
and all that it means.
Somehow, some survive all that and,
like a flower opening after a storm,
they slowly begin to remember
the one they lost
in a different way...
The laughter,
the irrepressible spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.
And in time, they fill the pit
with other memories
the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry.
We will always cry.
But with loving reflection
more than hopeless longing.
And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.
Mark Rickerby
Faith
Author Unknown
<http://www.inspirationpeak.com/share-a-poem.html>
Doubt sees the obstacles
Faith sees the way
Doubt sees the darkest night
Faith sees the day
Doubt dreads to take a step
Faith soars on high.
Doubt questions 'who believes?'
Faith answers, 'I.'
That was Mom. She lived her faith. She always said "Be not afraid." Her vision for her children wasn't limited by mountains or any barriers. She was a true believer. She didn't look at the darkness, she looked toward the rising sun, constantly encouraging us to "be the best that you can be."
Sunday, January 1, 2012
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