This week, all I can muster is a poem. When I created the graphic above, Annie hadn’t even been diagnosed yet and I was writing about the grief I was feeling about the loss of my mom and my sister. I have been reminded more than once in the last few weeks that it takes a lot of energy to grieve the loss of a loved one—through my own realizations and from the gentle reminders of others. So, this week…my words are few, but my commitment to sharing this journey continues.
These 8 Days
It’s my last night here with you alone.
Tomorrow, Tony and Luca will come home.
I will go back to my house.
Things will start to resume…school. Work. Tennis. Soccer.
But I’ve had eight days alone with you. In your home.
With your things.
With my memories.
Just us.
I’m having trouble letting go of it.
I’ve been so sad, but also
So grateful.
Your friends. Your home. Your things.
Your love. Your pictures.
Your scent. Your bags.
Your endless bottles of potions and creams and oils.
Your stones, your crystals, your moon water.
Your books, your t-shirts, your elixirs.
Your commitment, your strength, your smile.
I’ve absorbed you these past eight days
Into my skin, my bones, my heart,
To carry you again, inside me,
For the rest of my life.
I know there is work to be done.
Your work, your vision, your creativity.
Your Luca.
I will do whatever I can to help protect the things you loved.
You were my first priority.
Thank you for making me this mom.
Thank you for living your beautiful life.
I love you so much.
Within all the sadness, there is gratitude. Please know I’ve seen every note, message, card, gift and flower. It is my intention to acknowledge you—at some point—but know that the love and support that I know follows my every step is cherished.
xo
Cindy
I'm not a big fan of poetry, but sometimes messages are best delivered in that form - yours is lovely.
Thank you for sharing. I’m still grieving for my mom and your parents. It’s really hard to explain what you feel to others. It’s been 6 months since my
Mom Dusty passed. I miss her. I always think of our parents on Kentucky Derby day as they went to the infield in the early 60s. It used to remind me to call them with mom to say hello. Now I send them blessings wherever they are. I can not begin to understand your grief but you are in my thoughts and prayers. Kathy