In memoriam

The house is quiet. Everyone is sleeping, but my mind is not at rest.

It has been a week of losses, mine and others. Yet, the losses force me to reflect on life. We celebrated life this week. It’s a cycle–some die as others are born, but the new ones never replace the old. There is always a hole–a gaping wound–that, even when healed, leaves a dull ache.

Maybe we took our loved one for granted, overlooked the integral part she played in our lives, or assumed he would beat this as he had all the other times. Maybe we took for granted that there would be a next time.

Now it’s over and all we have are memories: countless encounters, frequent interactions and a significant presence, now significantly absent.

And we can’t stop the tears.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but how was it supposed to be? The end was inevitable, yet we’re surprised we’re here…at the end.

A Day Late

So, I’m not much of a poet, but occasionally I’ll try my hand at it. I thought I would share this poem that I wrote some years ago when I was in a pretty bad slump. I’m sharing this in response to the Daily Post prompt “Gone” because it’s all about missed opportunities and all those great things that are no longer available.

A Day Late 

second-guessing, full of doubt

i’m the one who just missed out.

always get there when it’s done

“oh! you just missed the fun!”

what’s new to me, they knew back when.

I’m ready! now, they’re gone again.

my nose in a book, life passed me by.

What good are words when I die?

“such promise she had,” or so they’ll say

success never came my way.

perhaps it was to keep me humble

that God allowed me to stumble

along…blind as a mole,

comfy in my little hole.

perhaps I had too much pride

hidden deep down inside

whatever.  It’s safe down here, out of sight

i think I’ll stay… it’s quite alright

who needs sunshine? shadows are fine

no crowd to please, to wine or dine

so what, the life I wanted never came?

i overslept and missed the game!

thinking, studying…not fool-hardy

yet messed around and missed the party!

my nose to the window glass,

i long for fame that another has.

i am here, though no one knows

pressing shirts and washing clothes

a hero to my children now

‘til they figure out just how

little I have really done

how few the accolades I’ve won

they’ll go far, do more, excel!

and I’ll be there to wish them well.

success just wasn’t meant for me.

my promise I’ve passed on—they’ll be

everything I never was.

since doubt and worry kept me back

focused on my loss and lack,

when I finally got ready to play

the night had o’ertaken the day

but, of course! you know, i’m just the sort

to get there late…and a dollar short