Valuable Dirt

What draws me here? What do I expect to find? Is it that I am sorely aware that your shell is beneath this manicured lawn? No amount of decorations, beautiful though they are, can remove the agony of reality. Every bug, every worm a horrible reminder of ones end. From dust we came, to dust (dirt) we will return.

As the reel of my mind plays and replays those horrid images, which threaten to undo what little sanity remains, I have to purposefully make the choice to think and meditate on images of heaven – you are whole, complete, full of joy! There is no other way for this Momma’s heart to find comfort and solace.

Almost a year and a half of your departure, AND it still feels surreal. I’m learning to accept that this “feeling” will be part of me until the day I take that same journey and we are united again. Oh, how that day drags on…endlessly painful…my eyes blurred to the horizon.

Do you think of me? Do you miss me? Of course NOT, that would be torture! I know…I live it! No, this isn’t living…I’m barely enduring it!

Death, the ultimate separation. The gut wrenching reality we will all have to face. No one escapes it!

“Grief has a way of lodging itself in the body…There is a substance to sorrow, a gritty reality and physicality that, if left untended, has the power to choke out one’s hope.” ~ Annie Parsons

Author: readypen8

A wife. A mother. Writing to heal, healing to write.

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