John (1982) and Benjamin (1985)
Two sons I carry only in my heart-
never in my arms –
I never got to hear your laughter –
yet you will always be part of me.
I will never know what you could have become
for your time with me was short,
but you are forever imprinted on my heart.
I only held you in my arms as you
took your final breaths, but
I know you could feel the depth of my love.
My students need my best me- everyday – all day.
It doesn’t matter if I’m having a bad day –
it doesn’t matter if my heart is heavy –
it doesn’t matter if I don’t feel well –
it doesn’t matter if I have needs of my own –
It doesn’t mean they don’t care – because they do.
It simply means they need the best I can give them –
for some I’m the only good they get –
for some I’m the safe place in a chaotic life –
for some I’m the only one who cares in their uncaring world –
for all –
it’s what they need –
my best me –
all day –
everyday.
So, I put on my game face, get in the room and
give those kids the respect, love, and caring they need,
I make them laugh and often diffuse their anger with humor –
only then can I begin to teach them.
They don’t always know what they need, but,
they are children –
I am an adult.
I have a little black box.
Only I know what it contains.
I look fine, I act fine, I never complain,
so I must be fine. I get it. It’s not like
wearing a cast, being wrapped in a bandage,
or having a deformity.
I know I’m determined to make it look easy, but,
take a peek inside and what’s there just might surprise you.
It might sound strange, but sometimes I must escape the temperature controlled utopias we have created.
I must escape to smell the outdoors – rain, river, woods, freshly mown hay…
I must feel heat on my skin, reassuring myself that the world is still there –
hear the glorious cacophony of earth’s orchestra.
I must get out, get away from the carefully controlled environment that, after a time, smothers me.
Don’t get me wrong, I very much appreciate being able to choose,
but please – don’t trap me inside.
I finally realized – today –
I’m already mourning my Mom.
I mourn the strong, intelligent, funny, compassionate,
and honest woman that my Mom was.
The dementia has already stolen her from me
with its cruel march through her mind.
I’m already mourning my Mom –
sometimes she knows me, and
sometimes she’s not sure who I am.
I can only hope with my whole heart
and entire being, that she’s not suffering –
That I could not bear.
I’m already mourning my Mom –
I don’t know how long she’ll continue
in her present state – here, yet not here.
Here in body only.
My Mom – the most influential person in my life –
the only human who has always loved me unconditionally.
My Mom – the strongest woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the most compassionate woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the most independent woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the most intelligent woman I’ve ever known, and
the wisest woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the kindest woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the funniest woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the most honest woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – the most determined woman I’ve ever known.
My Mom – yet not any longer the woman I knew.
My Mom – I’ll love you forever and you will always
live in me and through me.
I stand weeping at your grave
Tears falling like ice melting from my heart.
Tears that won’t cease
Crying over time we missed spending together
Crying about misunderstandings we experienced-
Crying about the hurt you must have endured –
nails driven into your heart.
I cry for the time you missed spending with those
who loved you, yet were afraid of you.
I cry because I don’t know what else to do.
I wish I could talk to you now
I wish I could tell you I understand
But, all the wishing in the world
won’t change the fact that you are
out of my reach – so I come here
where we buried you on that hot August
day in 1985 – to leave this in hope
that somehow you’ll understand that
in spite of everything, I love you.
(June 28, 2015 – This is something I wrote to my Dad)
Boys and girls torn from life way too soon.
Parents whose hearts ache with despair and grief –
Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmothers and grandfathers
unable to express the depth of their pain and sorrow-
the utter darkness that blankets their world.
Parents experience never-ending dreams of
their children alive and well as their minds grapple
with this horrendous new reality –
life without their precious children.
Waiting, waiting, waiting for the day when a thin ray of
hope dares to shine through their veil of darkness.
Nothing, nothing, nothing, prepared them for this.
Their world is irreversibly changed.
My heart aches, and my tears fall unchecked
for each and every one of them. Across the miles
my thoughts and prayers reach to sustain them.
I, too – parent, teacher, child, and fellow citizen.
(Written in the aftermath of the tragic elementary school shooting.)
~December 2012
Son of my son-
I can’t wait to meet you.
You are already loved beyond measure-
You, a perfect being, one of a kind.
You are blessed with parents who are:
kind, loving, strong, and intelligent.
Your life is one of promise-
A gift to discover as your story unfolds-
As you grow to be a man.
I, your grandmother, love you
unconditionally for ever and always.
(written as I waited for my first grandchild to be born) 4-9-13
Woodrow William Cantrell was born September 5, 2013
Let me lose myself
In the tangle of my dreams
Wandering unencumbered
by earthly bonds.
Free from cares of daily life-
to a place where my mind is open
to ideas, messages, thoughts, and feelings
I might otherwise never know.
November 30, 2009
robinsreflectionsandramblings 