on heavy hitting losses
The social realities are clearer. Apparently, I’ve also divorced old neighbors, friends, couples, and their children, my children’s friends.
I miss all of the children who ran into our home unannounced and treated our place like it was theirs.
I miss sharing music, food and laughter. Entertaining.
I miss long walks on clear nights admiring constellations and watching planes fly overhead. I envision one day flying in the brightness of those stars.
I miss the nightly howling of coyotes.
I miss big empty fields and open spaces where there is nothing to do but admire nature and breathe.
I miss running outside to jump in puddles while it rains.
I miss picking flowers from my garden and eating their sour stems.
I miss the smell and sound of hope. Babies.
I miss the smell and freshness of early morning. The stillness of life at the breaking of dawn.
I miss the emptiness of mind that comes when thoughts cease to be.
I miss the ones behind me, meant only to share one leg of the journey.
I miss macaroni art, glitter and glue.
I miss the lightness of my hands and heart.
They are heavy.
Weary of waving goodbye.
What am I grateful for?
- What is left. We are never asked to survive on what we’ve lost. Rather, we are equipped to thrive on what we have left. We may need to wear a cloak of sadness for a while, in reverence to the time we need to heal from our losses. When we are ready to take it off, we will be wearing garments of confidence.
~ Our steps are ordered. Remember to forge ahead, in both darkness and light. ~