In Spite of Everything, I Love You

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)

Newtown, CT

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

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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

Freedom

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

Inspired by “The Lady in Number 6” Alice Herz-Sommer

Inspired by “The Lady in Number 6”(At the time this was filmed, she was the oldest living Holocaust survivor at 109.)

Music saved her-

Gave her hope-

Filled her soul with “peace, beauty, and love.”

Music gave her strength to live another day.

“Music is a dream…” she said.

Artist, mother, pianist-

persecuted for being a Jew.

Music sustained her, was a lifeline

In a world gone mad.

“Music, music, music – it’s all that matters.”

With Chopin’s etudes etched in her mind-

Music flowed from her fingers to

Sustain her,  give her life, laughter

And strength to endure.

from 2/28/14

To my son on the occasion of his 30th birthday – July 26, 2010

Where do I begin?

The years have flown so swiftly past as I have watched you grow from a newborn into a toddler, so beautiful -you took my breath away. You then grew into a little boy so funny and curious – you kept me on my toes. You had a fabulous belly laugh that could make the world laugh with you. We made countless trips to the library to keep you supplied with books pertaining to your current interest. Then you became a middle schooler – unafraid of being intelligent in a world filled with those who were unwilling to do the same. As a high schooler, you were an avid mountain biker, long distance runner,  photographer,  budding writer and musician. You were a self-motivated learner. You knew your own mind and weren’t afraid to do what you wanted. You traveled by yourself on both short and long trips in cars and on motorcycles. You graduated from high school 6th in your class and did so without effort. College was a bit frustrating for you. You wanted to begin in the middle, but had to begin with things you said you had learned in high school. After much exploration, you finally changed your major to engineering. This is when everything began to fall into place for you. After you graduated, you went to work, getting a job without even applying for it. You finally decided that you couldn’t do exactly as you wanted without a masters degree. A masters degree that someone else would pay for and pay you for working while you finished. Graduating with your masters, TVA offered you a job in their River Forecast Center making considerably more money than you had previously made. As I always told you, God made you smart and your Dad and I made you good looking, however it’s more important for you to be a good person and a good citizen of the planet. You have accomplished all of this. You’re my best contribution to the world and I love you with all my heart.

My Heart

My heart is a complicated place-

Filled with people and emotions

From years of living.

It has dark places, secret places-

That no one can see.

But, it has many more pockets

filled with light and joy.

from June 4, 2010

Fog

My soul soars in the fog,

somewhere above earth

containing all, yet nothing.

Fog whispers

Fog silences

Fog roars

Mysterious in all it surrounds.

8-26-10

Tribute to Charleston

As I continue to struggle with the tragic loss of life in Charleston, and my tears continue to fall, I do the only thing that seems to help- I write. I thought I’d share in hope that it might help someone else.
Nine lives brought to a sudden halt
Nine lives lost- creating infinite ripples throughout the world
Nine lives leaving craters behind
Craters that can’t be filled
Now there’s:
A church with no pastor…
A library with no librarian…
A track team with no coach…
A young man, 26 and the youngest to die,
willing to sacrifice himself
To protect his elderly aunt –
An elderly aunt who was killed anyway and oldest to die…
A ministerial staff member who no longer lives to serve…
A choir member whose voice is forever silenced…
Another church without a pastor…
And, a church with no sexton.
Yet I continue to struggle…
How can one so young have such senseless hatred?
How can a mind be so poisoned and a heart so hard
That it can wreak such chaos and senseless destruction-
Creating craters that can’t be filled?

Summer 2015