Posts tagged sadness

Goodbye,Helladays

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There are so many good things about the Holiday season. I enjoy meals with family, cook and wrap presents. I take photos and watch the little ones open their gifts with innocence and excitement. I clean up the mess of wrapping paper, just as I did ten years ago. From the outside, nothing appears that different, I suppose. I know I should have a better attitude, but it seems to become more difficult to endure this “happy time” every year, when it isn’t happy for me.

I feel like I spent most of my Christmas this year alone. I managed a “tree cutting with my son and his friends, decorating a different tree-(the first one, a white pine was just too spindly),eating at my Aunts, a family tradition and seeing my grand kids play together on her floor as everyone laughed and gobbled down snacks and a ham dinner. . Still, Christmas Eve alone was miserable. My youngest son that has is still at home has a girlfriend who he is either with or talking to, my husband watches TV and hangs out in the living room. I kept hoping my son would come watch TV with me after his girlfriend went home, but he didn’t. Wasn’t it only a year or two ago that he stayed near me and comforted me as I cried over his brother or helped me down the steps at the Gingerbread House display when I was hurting so bad that it was difficult to walk?

My father passed away in August, between hospital and “rehab” stays, spending the summer with my family and being in hospice twice before I could no longer care for him. It was horrible. He has always been so active and often refused to let us help him. When he began to fall and get hurt, I had no choice but to seek help. We found the nicest nursing home we could-dad’s memory was in and out. Sometimes, he talked and told stories, other times, he was asking how “my mother and I” got him put in that place, even though it has been nearly four years since I lost my mother. When he asked my daughter one day if she thought he would ever be able to go home , she held him and whispered, “I don’t think so-I’m sorry.” Three weeks later he was gone. Not because of what she said, but because he had heard what he already knew was true from his oldest grand daughter and he couldn’t bear it.

It may seem odd, but I have grieved them both this year, as I cleaned out their house. I will never stop grieving the 15 year old who should be 2 now, who collapsed and died while simply playing baseball.

I read the newspaper and see all of the tragedies around the world. Those who have lost family to violence or war, and find myself feeling guilty. I see how many people in my neighborhood live alone or are elderly, their families far away. They look forward to these days as being one of the few times that they see their families, when I see most of my family every week.

One of my daughters had to spend her baby’s first Christmas away from her, because she was too sick with the flu to care for her. Thankfully she is better now. I think it is easy for family to forget that those of us who are not well, depressed, or grieving need joy in our holidays too. My children are busy with their young families or girlfriends. My husband and I don’t have a joyful relationship like we used to. We live here, we talk when we have to. He is healthy, doing what he wants. I am not, and find myself longing for happier times with a loving family and my own little children around me.

Yesterday was my birthday-I got phone calls from my kids and a card from my aunt. That’s all. Today, my son got his drivers license. Although I am glad to see him get the chance to grow up, unlike his older brother, these rites of passage for him, find me looking to even more loneliness and worry.

It seems the more I try to find happiness in these times, the more difficult if becomes. I admit to wiping a few stray tears at the Christmas play when my tall, handsome son played “Joseph” as the rest of the cast were modern day characters with attitudes rather like my own. Of course at the end, my “Joseph” had made them realize the true meaning of Christmas, but, sadly, going home to find myself watching reruns alone quickly dispelled that mood.

I look away, pretending to be distracted, hoping some well-meaning clerk won’t ask if I had a good holiday. I breathe a sigh of relief when she picks the next person in line to share he cheer with. I come home to an empty house and wait on my newly “freed” son to get home. The cat howls in the next room as if she is as sad as I am.

I’m sorry, world, if the holidays aren’t what they used to be. I’m sorry I avoid the cheery clerks and church folks at the play. I’m sorry I went to sleep at my Aunts and woke up crying. To those of you who still can, I wish a happy season. For those who feel like I do, we just wish it was over.

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The Heart of a Man

 

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 The Heart of A Man

 

 

 

 

We can move like the waves on the ocean,

Or dance, with only the moonlight

shadows reflecting the land.

I can feel like I love you completely,

But, still, I cannot understand

why I always feel love is hiding

deep in the heart of a man.

Across hills, we can journey together,

our souls become one with the light.

The whispers of autumn approaching,

yet we lie like two strangers at night.

For miles, we have traveled this highway,

and still I do not understand

what keeps the emotions so silent

In the heart of a man.

 

 

reprinted from beebeesworld Fall 2012-one of my favorites. Its been a rough week, but I wanted my friends to know I;m still out here, new friends please read some of my old entries listed on my home page!

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Your Obituary

The dark, cold, loneliness of rejection still fills my soul. A part of me will always be dead. Over thirty years later, reading your obituary still brought tears of rejection to my eyes.

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Not Close Enough

For 27 years I prayed when I felt God talking to me. Felt He was saying what he wanted me to do and that he would keep my kids safe and me healthy, if I obeyed. I tried, with all I had and believed, even though kt was hard because nothing ever worked out for me. On a regular day, after a year of fear and worry, feeling like things were just not right, my son ran up a baseball field, collapsed and died before a ridiculously slow ambulance came. It must have gone to the wrong ball park-there was a fire station within sight of the ball field.

He died, over the next few months I began to get sick. I got Cushings Disease, Scoliosis, heart failure, a mitral heart valve. The stress on my family made life so hard. No one understood my pain, physical or mental.

I believed, I tried, I lost. It is hard to have faith in the sun coming up now. I really felt promised, if I had patience, worked hard. Why did my son pay the price. Life has always been a struggle. No, it is a lie. All the good, my kids and grand kids are precious, but the hole in my heart, literally and physically will never heal. Wrong is wrong, no matter where is comes from.

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As Fragile as Glass

Three years ago, I lost my mom.

She had been fading for years, but we still talked,

we laughed and loved.

It seems like since then loss and loneliness

have been so much of my life.

I feel like I am drowning.

After loosing my child, hope, faith,

and that special closeness with my family,

I feel I will never capture the joy in life again.

I can only beg you, young people,

to take that joy, when you find it,

and treat it as thought it was glass, because it is.

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Apathy- Haibun Challenge

I lost a precious, healthy 15-year-old while he was playing ball seven years ago. At first there were the disgusting “grief addicts” who actually came to my door and introduced themselves, all to give their “condolences”. I got critically ill because of his death, and felt that everyone was already “over” feeling sorry for my family. Life went on for everyone but me, even in my family, and I understand, I really do, but it still hurt-it hurts today when no one remembers the day and I feel like I am dying.

Some of my kids had just married, some married soon after, I’m now expecting my 7th grandchild when I had none when I lost my son. I lived, after finally convincing doctors that it wasn’t “just grief” (grief is a “JUST??”By that time, they told me I had three weeks to live. I have continued to be ill, Suffer from the results of misdiagnosis, (which, along with inadequate slow medical care, cost my son his life).

I live in pain, physical and emotional. Apathy is real, but I am afraid it is true that we cannot bear the burden for everyone-perhaps a select few. The agony of it would kill us. Even temporary condolence, even an occasional, “I remember” is nice. I suppose that is all we can expect.

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The Light inside Us

I walked along the streets, tears flowing down my cheeks. It was 8:00 on a summer evening. An argument had torn at my soul. My heart was broken.

Around me, I noticed the lights in houses were coming on. Darkness had come and families were settling down to relax, read, watch TV, normal things.

 Hours later, far from home, I started back. Home. What was that now? The lights in the houses were beginning to go out. Bedtime, sleepy heads on soft pillows. Lights. Signals of time.

I walked home. I would leave the lights out. Maybe things would be brighter in the morning. .

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