I feel guilty that I don’t blog as often about grief but like some people I get writers block. When life is good my pen won’t write yet when my mind if full the words fall onto the page like autumn leaves falling from a tree.
I wrote this poem a few weeks ago when I was feeling a little unsure but that’s what living with grief is like. People talk about living with disease and sometimes the emotions attached to ones death can seem like an incurable illness yet if we dig deep we can find a cure.
I’m still working through it and each day it gets better but sometimes I still suffer a set back, and that’s normal. That’s life.
It’s to honour and cherish those we have lost and believe that no matter what they are that driving force behind us, that they are in fact the cure.
I lost my brother Marcus in 2005. He was eighteen years old at the time and lost his young life in a car accident. He was my older brother, just two and a half years between us. At the time, I was just a child and felt I couldn’t grieve so I made it my own business to be strong to my family and to hide my tears in my pillow.
But just a year and a half later my father Maxie lost his battle with illness. While doctors say it was an illness, I believe it was grief that killed him. I was always very close to my father. I shared his love for horses and so every weekend him and I would head off to shows together. But when I lost him, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to pick up the broken pieces of my heart.
Losing the first two men you learn to love is devastating and comprehensible. I was a child and I was suddenly thrown into this world of darkness, pain and despair.
Writing though offered me a platform to learn, heal and discover and now I can share my experience here to help you in some way.
The first ever post I shared about what I was suffering is This Is Me which will explain some of my journey.
Here is a poem I wrote describing my grief:
The glass is empty yet heavy,
The eyes are open yet empty,
The heart is beating yet cold,
The heart is pumping yet broken.
Moving forward yet stuck in the past,
Living today but dreaming of yesterday,
Wanting to move yet my feet are stuck,
Want to be set free but I’m trapped inside.
Needing love yet pushing it away,
Wanting care yet staying alone,
Asking for help yet never listening,
Praying for shelter but staying outdoors.