Stephen
November 21st, 2009 by Karen
Today, was a difficult day. By far one of the hardest days of my adult life.
Today we buried Stephen.
He was my brother’s very best friend, so much so that Stephen was the brother he never had and vice versa. They brought out the good in each other and he’s been around for so very long that it’s hard to believe he’s really gone. Last Thursday evening, with his beloved wife Rosemary by his side, Stephen lost a long, hard fought battle with cancer. He leaves a hole in so many hearts…a testament to his undying and unwavering love for others.
Personally, I’ve always had a difficult time with my tears. I admit it…I cry easily. Part of it I’m sure is inherited from my mother, but part of it is that I can feel the grief of those around me profoundly. At times, I have set foot in hospitals and simply burst into tears from the overwhelming emotion that washes over me. Sometimes this is a blessing…I can tell when people are hiding their grief, but sometimes the constant tide dashes me against the proverbial rocks and I find it difficult to maintain my composure for any extended period of time.
This morning at the graveside, was one of those moments…from the first second I saw Rosemary until I got back in my car, there were tears on my face. I cried for her…for the loss of her beloved husband, that she won’t be able to grow old with him, that she has to experience widowhood at such a young age, for her broken heart. I cried for his mother and father, Marlene and Dave, that they had to bury their only son who brought so much joy to their lives, that they would never again go golfing with him or be able to hug him tight. I cried for his little sister, Christina, for the loss of her big brother, her hero. I cried for his grandparents, who I’m sure never considered that they would ever be burying a grandchild. I cried for his in-laws, who grew to love him as a son and a brother, for he filled a special place in their lives too that will forever now be empty. I cried for his adorable nephews, E and Marsh, who are so small that their memories of their uncle will be smudged by time. I cried for his friends, Charlie and Kate and Andrew and Daniella and Nathan and Eric and so many others, that they have lost their friend and confidant and with his illness and passing, some of their own innocence. And finally, I cried for my little brother, for his loss of his best friend, his brother by choice, his golf and baseball buddy and for his own unexpressed bottomless grief that I can see in his eyes and for my inability to do anything to fix it.
After Stephen’s funeral and memorial today, I had the long, quiet drive home alone in the dark to think. Upon reflection of this morning’s chilly mourning, the following words filled my heart and brought me a modicum of peace…I know Stephen is home. And in time, we will see him again.
~Karen
Stephen’s Goodbye
widow’s weeds
of grey and tears
glide quietly through the crowd of somber faces
weeping silently for vanished years
of tea and coffee
of crooked smiles
of grass and sky
of embraces
of growing old
as so many do
and some may not
grief etched deep
sleep lost
and ache more plentiful than clouds
heaped on empty bellies
and broken souls
Angels weep soft tears of their own sorrow upon
wife, mother, father, sister, brother, family, friends
and icy wind rips the unspoken scream
from dashed hearts
resounding across the empty sky
with a whispered wail
tempered only by the final sound
of God’s soft breath on chimes
carrying him home
on a single sweet tone
Posted in Family, Life, Poetry & Writing | 0 Comments
Surface
March 1st, 2009 by Karen
floating
like a forgotten blossom
on a wood ringed pond
making nary a ripple
bobbing slightly with the breeze
as the mist swirls tightly
all promise of life
lost in the chill of evening
and the depths of oblivion.
Posted in Poetry & Writing, Private | 0 Comments
Cycles
January 8th, 2009 by Karen
I’ve been rather introspective lately…thinking about life and the dynamics that cast eddys and waves across my existance and I’ve started to notice I have cycles of creativity. I’m sure everyone goes through patches of writers block and such, but right now, I simply long for more. To do more, to be more.
Yearning
I want to wander into the woods for an hour simply to listen to my heartbeat and hear my breath mix with that of the trees.
I want to dance free and vibrant like I was 5 and didn’t care what anyone thought.
I want to break out my acrylics and delightedly fingerpaint.
I want to spin florid words across crisp linen with purple ink and a fountain pen.
I want to listen to jazz all day long and sing and weep.
I want to sit in a meadow and eat fresh picked blackberries that stain my fingers.
I want to wander through antique stores and smile at the trinkets and forgotten memories of souls long since past.
I want to sit in silence and weave stories from the depths of my being.
I want to cast hugs and kisses upon old friends.
I want to cry out the joy in my heart from the highest mountain and whisper it to the lowliest pebble.
I want to ground myself to the earth and strain to kiss the sky.
Posted in Poetry & Writing, Random Thoughts | 0 Comments
