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I wrote this poem about the grief I feel, after struggling to sleep last night, I wonder if any widows or widowers know what I mean…
I see you when I wake, yet you are not there.
I see you when I close my eyes, yet you are not there.
I see you when I stare at our photo, yet you are not there.
I see you when I try to forget,
Yet I struggle to see you when I try to remember.
Then I look in my heart and I see that you are still there…
1298 days ago
[...] Farmery presents Visions of a Lost Love posted at Widows [...]
Mary – I posted about it today, so more people see it. I hope that today you can concentrate on the good memories – it really is a wonderful feeling to have loved. We will celebrate with you today, and yet also understand the pain…..
For some reason, clicking on my name doesn’t bring you to my website. Here’s the URL if you’re inclined to stop by.
http://www.myspace.com/lulustarbrook
Thanks!
Anna (and anyone else who might want to stop by), I posted a little tribute on my MySpace blog. Today, Sept. 2, would have been Michael and my 8th wedding anniversary. It’s my way of dealing with the loss of him. He’ll always be in my heart. I must be moving forward a little, because I’m feeling that I won’t continue to mark the anniversaries with a public memorial. I’m one of those people who loves ritual and finding closure. The memories I’ve recorded this past year and a half are ones I’ll treasure forever.
Mary your story does help because it keeps that hope alive. Actually the words were just ones that I wrote on a piece of paper…not sure if it means it is a “poem” but I was just thinking how weird your mind is….when you want to forget you can’t, when you want to remember you can’t…maybe we should trick it back and wish for the opposite… :)
Anna,
Your poem brought tears to my eyes. I certainly can relate. When Michael died, I wasn’t with him. But I did find him, and he looked so peaceful that I felt some measure of comfort. His body had been breaking down for years to the point where he should have been in a wheelchair.
I had several dreams of him after his funeral. The first two were rather troubling. But the third one (was that the charm?) showed me that he was thriving in his afterlife. He was healthy and strong. He walked briskly. He was free of the pain and suffering. That dream came 6 months after he died. I was still dealing with the grief and anger of his death that at the time I had mixed feelings of the message. Part of me was thinking, “gee, aren’t you lucky to be through with this pain, and I’m still hanging in the wind?” I realized, though, his life on earth had become unbearable. To keep him in a physical form would have prolonged his agony.
I don’t know if my little story has helped you at all, but your poem hit home. Thank you so much for writing and sharing it.
Hugs,
Mary
1356 days ago
[...] response to the poem I wrote called The Visions of Lost Love, Hazel and I were talking about the pictures we have in our mind. In one of the comments I [...]
Jessica – thank you, can you see me blushing! I suppose it just shows that words from the heart are always better than words manufactured.
Hazel – I will never give up hoping that one day that picture will change. I know it is the pain that is still holding my attention rather than the love that I know is deep inside
Anna,
I know it is so hard to get the picture of your husband dying out of your mind and memory. I also watched my husband die
when the Dr’s told me there was no hope and they had to remove the life support that had kept him breathing. It is a picture that replayed over and over in my mind. I can only say that over time that picture lessens and the happy memories replace it. Try to turn your thoughts to a happier memory when that vision comes.
Anna -
You said, “I am no poet”. I beg to differ with you! And those were powerful lines that you wrote – so many of us (I am assuming) can see ourselves in what you wrote. Thank you, once again, for sharing your thoughts. Hugs from Houston!
Hazel – It is my biggest regret that I have never replaced the picture in my head of seeing him die with a happy one – no matter how I try. I also wish he would come to me, I would feel somehow better knowing his soul was still there. I am a dreamer in real life and yet this is the one area that my creative side just closes down….glad that you related to the words. I am no poet :(
Yes, I can understand your feelings totally.
When my husband first had died, I prayed every night that I would see him in my dreams. I longed so much for him; just to
see him and to hear his voice. The longings are overwhelming at times. I pray for your healing. It takes time.