The Peregrine
Some things are Lost That You don’t Get Back. Thoughts are consumed by memories put on replay. An endless loop of hope filled Happier times.
One always grieves for what and Who is Lost.
Losing yourself is the most deeply felt. Rearranging atoms and molecules.
So many Thoughts went on in Her head as she sat by the empty bed. Sometimes at Night She would lay across his bed not so much for sleep as that had eluded her for weeks, but rather to absorb his scent which was slowly dissolving with passing time.
His bedroom now a divine sacred place where I shower altars with copious tearful offerings.
Fading like dissipated mist. And that bird. Not native to these parts. It first appeared two weeks before his transition. Warbling with all its heart it’s song brought a peace to my suffering child. Eased his pain. Interrupted nonstop seizures.
Comforting my Paradise child through his Souls transition from Time into eternity.
He once terrestrial in the blink of a moment became Celestial.
On the day of the funeral, a Gravesite service entire flocks of various avian species serenaded better than the most skillful singers.
The Groundskeeper
So Many Wrong Doors. Wrong Doors are open while Keys to the correct Doors are Lost.
The Repo man stole Her heart then Her Life. She was found among Laurel and cypress trees.
Ashes to ashes. Dust to Dust. In a daze waiting for someone to wake her up telling Her that it was all a bad Dream. As the Funeral Director guides her through the motions She realizes that this is her New reality.
She is an open wound seeping blood and pus.
Heaven Gains More Angels.
While all Left to She and Her are gravestones marked with Names, birth and death dates. Only Her and She know the story behind the dash.
Yet lately I’ve heard a familiar warbling. A persistent chirp. A persistent breeze turning the spokes of his old bike not ridden in months.
A Vague flash of Angel Wings caressing face engulfing my being with his presence.
Mommy it’s alright now. It’s alright.
I Can Only Imagine by Mercy Me
Beautiful tribute. It comes heartfelt words with artistic display. You are exploring so many creative passions, my friend!
*Combines not comes
Two Women I know are dealing with the deaths of their disabled children.
This is based on two Ladies I know who both lost their disabled children this year.
Yes I read that at the end. Losing a child must be one of the hardest things.
Yes. Losing your child is losing part of you. Women in that situation are never the same.
One womans Autistic Son died earlier this month the other woman disabled daughter passed away in October.