Please watch. For me. For the survivors in your life...even though you may not know they exist. They are all around you.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Project Unbreakable...
Please watch. For me. For the survivors in your life...even though you may not know they exist. They are all around you.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Shadow Children...
the children
we bore in our wombs
but never our arms
the children with whom we never share
milestones, birthdays, photos
sweaty heads resting on a pillow
faces covered with chocolate ice cream
racing to beat a player to the ball
firsts of school, dances, kisses
walks down aisles of graduations, of weddings
no pictures, parties, ceremonies
no baptism, confirmation, communion
they live with us, beside us
we watch their shadow lives unfold
alone
God knitted them in our womb
fearfully and wonderfully made
but the stain of sin
the corruption of creation
kept them from the life they could have had
they are our children
every bit as much as the ones
you place to your breast
send off to school
bandage knees and cool fevered brows
cheer wildly at games
console in your arms
send off into the world
they are our children
living in the shadows of our lives
where we cannot help but imagine
their lives
where we cannot help but store
their hopes and dreams
where we cannot help but mark
their milestones
their photos, their memories,
a scrapbook we can never share
the pages of which we flip through
alone
~Myrtle Bernice Adams
Friday, April 27, 2012
Christmas Tree Lament...
Long, strong arms,
lifted the segments
gingerly,
gladly,
loved to help
where their strength would show.
A cherub with blond curls,
a Greek god in full bloom,
boldly hugged
the females in his train.
I was just one of them now,
perhaps the least.
A troubadour of sweet strings and voice
tearing always at our hearts.
"Bist du bei mir" the orchestra is playing on the disc, now,
sweepingly, grandly, broadly,
over and over, swelling.--But, it will not be your beautiful hands
closing my faithful eyes.
~Brigitte Mueller
lifted the segments
gingerly,
gladly,
loved to help
where their strength would show.
A cherub with blond curls,
a Greek god in full bloom,
boldly hugged
the females in his train.
I was just one of them now,
perhaps the least.
A troubadour of sweet strings and voice
tearing always at our hearts.
"Bist du bei mir" the orchestra is playing on the disc, now,
sweepingly, grandly, broadly,
over and over, swelling.--But, it will not be your beautiful hands
closing my faithful eyes.
~Brigitte Mueller
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Grief is not linear...
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross gave life to the dying. She taught the entire world about grief, giving us words to describe its stages in a way even those not touched by grief could understand. But as it goes with the way of the world, we did not really listen to the difficult things. Instead, we tried to simplify it, package it up neatly, turn it into an actionable list to be conquered one cross-off at a time.
We work the list. We struggle through the list. We finish the list. And in our minds we cross off the 6th and final stage as "Resolution." No matter the word you might use for number six, the idea is the same: the grieving process is not over.
Grief is not linear.
Kubler-Ross understood this. She spoke of this, wrote of this, taught this. But we stuff our fingers in our ears. We glossed over that part. We failed to take notes. It is easier if grief is linear. Easier for the grieving. Easier for those who care about the ones who are grieving. When I studied her work, the metaphor most often used was like the waves that crash upon the beach. They come. They leave. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes violent. Sometimes smoothing out the sand. Sometimes wreaking havoc. But always coming and going and returning again. Waves never cease.
For me, I like to think of grief as a companion. As one of my characters explains, "A strange companion Grief is. He comes and goes, comes when you least expect him, goes when you don’t. Grief fills you when he’s there, and his whispers linger when he’s gone."
Were Cora the one writing this, she would also add: He is a companion you hate and a companion you learn to respect. You run away from him. You embrace him. You vent your ire with your entire being with him. You weep within his arms. He is your bitterest enemy. He is...surprisingly...your friend.
If you understand that there is no check list, no normal, and no end, then you also understand that Grief is a companion who strengthens you and enriches your life. Even if you are near certain that he is destroying it.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
Denial- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance
DenialAnger- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance
We work the list. We struggle through the list. We finish the list. And in our minds we cross off the 6th and final stage as "Resolution." No matter the word you might use for number six, the idea is the same: the grieving process is not over.
Grief is not linear.
Kubler-Ross understood this. She spoke of this, wrote of this, taught this. But we stuff our fingers in our ears. We glossed over that part. We failed to take notes. It is easier if grief is linear. Easier for the grieving. Easier for those who care about the ones who are grieving. When I studied her work, the metaphor most often used was like the waves that crash upon the beach. They come. They leave. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes violent. Sometimes smoothing out the sand. Sometimes wreaking havoc. But always coming and going and returning again. Waves never cease.
For me, I like to think of grief as a companion. As one of my characters explains, "A strange companion Grief is. He comes and goes, comes when you least expect him, goes when you don’t. Grief fills you when he’s there, and his whispers linger when he’s gone."
Were Cora the one writing this, she would also add: He is a companion you hate and a companion you learn to respect. You run away from him. You embrace him. You vent your ire with your entire being with him. You weep within his arms. He is your bitterest enemy. He is...surprisingly...your friend.
If you understand that there is no check list, no normal, and no end, then you also understand that Grief is a companion who strengthens you and enriches your life. Even if you are near certain that he is destroying it.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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