Love Lost
To love only that which has been lost, Is a wound which only death may heal. I will see you one day My Little Princess.
To love only that which has been lost, Is a wound which only death may heal. I will see you one day My Little Princess.
How We Survive is my favorite poem by Mark Rickerby. Thanks for sharing it. Your mother looks like a lovely lady and obviously very loved and fortunate. This page is a beautiful tribute to her.
I'm Free
Don't grieve for me, for now I'm free
I'm following the path God laid for me.
I took His hand when I heard him call;
I turned my back and left it all.
I could not stay another day,
To laugh, to love, to work or play.
Tasks left undone must stay that way;
I found that place at the close of day.
If my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.
A friendship shared a laugh, a kiss;
Ah yes, these things, I too will miss.
Be not burdened with times of sorrow
I wish you the sunshine of tomorrow.
My life's been full, I savored much;
Good friends, good times, a loved ones touch.
Perhaps my time seems all to brief;
Don't lengthen it now with undue grief.
Lift up your heart and share with me,
God wanted me now, He set me free.
~© Linda Jo Jackson~
A Daughter's Promise
Every time that I smile,
Every time that I sigh,
I think of your face,
And a tear escapes my eye.
You were my world,
My inspiration and my heart,
But when you left me,
I thought I would fall apart.
You were my best friend,
My one true 'confidante',
And that's not all you were,
You were also my mom.
I didn't want to live without you,
But you would have wanted me to,
And if there's anyone I want to make happy,
That anyone is you
I would have given anything to have you back,
But I know now that it was meant to be,
For you are still watching from up there,
And I know you're watching me.
I'll make you proud mom,
I'm going to fulfill your wish,
You're going to see me and smile,
That's a daughter's promise.
How We Survive
If we are fortunate,
we are given a warning.
If not,
there is only the sudden horror,
the wrench of being torn apart;
of being reminded
that nothing is permanent,
not even the ones we love,
the ones our lives revolve around.
Life is a fragile affair.
We are all dancing
on the edge of a precipice,
a dizzying cliff so high
we can't see the bottom.
One by one,
we lose those we love most
into the dark ravine.
So we must cherish them
without reservation.
Now.
Today.
This minute.
We will lose them
or they will lose us
someday.
This is certain.
There is no time for bickering.
And their loss
will leave a great pit in our hearts;
a pit we struggle to avoid
during the day
and fall into at night.
Some,
unable to accept this loss,
unable to determine
the worth of life without them,
jump into that black pit
spiritually or physically,
hoping to find them there.
And some survive
the shock,
the denial,
the horror,
the bargaining,
the barren, empty aching,
the unanswered prayers,
the sleepless nights
when their breath is crushed
under the weight of silence
and all that it means.
Somehow, some survive all that and,
like a flower opening after a storm,
they slowly begin to remember
the one they lost
in a different way...
The laughter,
the irrepressible spirit,
the generous heart,
the way their smile made them feel,
the encouragement they gave
even as their own dreams were dying.
And in time, they fill the pit
with other memories
the only memories that really matter.
We will still cry.
We will always cry.
But with loving reflection
more than hopeless longing.
And that is how we survive.
That is how the story should end.
That is how they would want it to be.