Tears

 “A New Day is Dawning”----

But I only see clouds,

Tears falling like rain:

Mourning.

The tears of years of good-byes

The rips, the tears in my heart

So many years of worrying:

Will he survive

the fall?

the surgery?

the chemo?

Tears in my eyes, 

Tears in my heart

I thought those years of tears and tears

Would cushion my fall

When he let go.

The fall wasn’t parachuting

 to an easy landing

but a plunge into widowhood.

He’s been gone for nine months

Shouldn’t I have created a new life by now?

Looking for light in the Mourning:

A New Day Dawning

Peace and War

Summer’s heat caresses my arms: 

tensions fade away. 

Soft cool breezes soothe my soul.

I listen to the whispers in the wind,

A dove coos raising my hopes

of breezy, drowsy day.

Here comes Humidity, 

that unloved companion of Summer’s warmth:  

Humidity bouncing on my chest 

like an obese pup wanting to be loved.

I can’t leave the heat, I’m embraced by the warmth,

 but Humidity’s weight . . .

I am stirred to action:

the chubby puppy  is jumping on my chest, licking my face——

Humidity is out of control—-

Must retreat

Stepping inside my cool apartment 

My fortress protects me from that damp assault. . .

But I still crave the warmth of summer’s touch.

Network Paradox

 Train Network

The slow steady strum . . .

the ancient heartbeat of America

still pulsing down the track

pushing coal and cargo

through the starving network:

satisfying the energy needs of

America.

not behemoths bullying on the highways.

nor roaring eagles drawing attention in the skies.

not giants barging down the river .

just the soft rumble of lifelines

connecting the brokenness of America

Network Train

The Network pounds out messages 

of frustration . . .

and of fear . . . 

and of feelings   . . .

of hopelessness   . . .

Like a long string of train cars

with never ending gloom. 

Any real communication is drowned out 

by the loud pounding

of noise on rails with

their messages of doom.

And then. . ..

the noise fades, 

calm arrives, 

before the next frantic pounding message 

comes down the track.

We Grieve Two Men

 First I want to thank all of you who have been on this journey with us——the prayers, the cards, the meals, the visits, the assistance for Dave at home and at appointments.  We could’t have done it all without you.  Thank you.

We Grieve Two Men

Rachel said we celebrated in 2001 for what Dave could do. . . .we never allowed ourselves to grieve the man he had been.

We grieve the man who fell off the roof 24 years ago with a life threatening Traumatic Brain Injury.

And we grieve the man who emerged from 6 weeks in the ICU broken but strong and fighting.

We  grieve the engineer who flew around the world meeting with other scientists researching fusion energy

And we grieve the man who went back to work 9 months after his accident and worked for 5 more years at his desk.

We grieve the athletic man who jogged every day, worked out at the Y, played golf, traversed the KATY trail.

And we grieve the man who struggled for 24 years with Physical therapy and trainers at Wellbridge..

We grieve the man who would help others move, trim a tree, drive middle school kids to Branson for a church trip.

And we grieve the man who reluctantly but  graciously  accepted help from others.

We grieve the man who was Chief Silver Cloud  taking 3 Indian Princesses on weekend campouts.

And We grieve the man who drove hundreds of miles so grandchildren could crawl on his lap for him to read to them.

We grieve the man who sang tenor in the church choir, and chaired  the Worship Committee.

And we grieve the man who spoke hesitantly with a speech impediment at Small Group.

We grieve the man who drove up one day surprising us with a license plate saying 3DOTRS 

And we grieve the man who drove a van with a lift for his wheel chair.

We grieve the man who stood proudly holding his head up, back straight

And we grieve the man who was bent over a walker or slumped in a wheel chair, still proud but weaker

We grieve the man who took us to Disney World gritting his teeth but smiling through It’s a Small World

And we grieve the man who took us on Disney cruises dressed as a pirate in a wheel chair.

We remember, we grieve, we celebrate.

We celebrated that he was still the same handsome, kind, caring, strong man who laughed at our shenanigans. He still loved watching the Cardinals, Chiefs and Missouri Tigers.  He walked more slowly, spoke with difficulty and never showed his physical and emotional pain—-worrying until the end about leaving us. And when he saw that our daughters and grandchildren stepped up to help me with my knee surgery, he knew he could “go  home”

We were the fortunate ones to have had two great men in one body. 

Boxes tied with ribbons

 Little Boxes tied with ribbons 

Filled with memories and love 

Stacked in the back of my closet

.

One box has cousin memories 

Filled with laughter and tears of frustration:  

I couldn't keep up with the boys athletically 

As much as I tried.  

Haha! I would taunt them to chase me.  

I was short and cleared the table.. .

they were tall and hit their heads.

I outsmarted them—-haha!  

I label this box “Satisfied with Revenge”

Another box has daughter memories 

Filled with laughter and anxiety: 

It was difficult watching them grow up----

Independent women who no longer needed me.  

But that's the point. . . .

I had given them wings. 

I label  this box “Satisfied and Content”

Here’s a large box with Dave's memories

Filled with laughter. . . and concern:  

Half our married life was so good 

I never appreciated what we had.

So much joy and peace travelling the KATY trail and Scotland together.

The other half of our marriage was daily concerns for his health—

I did the best I could, sparing no cost financially or emotionally. 

I labeled this one “Satisfied and Managed”

I found a dusty small box with a frayed ribbon: Germany memories.

 I wouldn’t open it, couldn’t open it,  but kept sliding it to the back of the closet . 

One day the ribbon tore and it opened without my help. 

I had packed away my feelings with the letters and photos.  

They all escaped when I least expected. .. .with the death of my dear husband. 

I discovered the raw emotions packed away when he said good-bye

I never responded... . .

I haven’t labeled this one . . . . .yet