Writings shared by Zipporah member of
The Mending Word
10 Part Series
Loss of feeling
Disinterest
In all things
Big and small
Politics
Feelings of others
Unaffected by
100 degrees
Scorching sun
Wilting leaves
Choking in the humidity.
Loss of the ability
To hear
To focus
To be present.
There is an opaqueness through me
In me
Surrounding me
Thick
Thick
Thick like the hot humid hair
Sweat dripping down my back
Stinging my eyes
Not feeling.
People talking
Kids laughing
Adults planning
Elections
Not hearing
Stuck
Immobilized
Take a shower
Don’t feel clean
Take another
Did I shower?
Loss of sense of self.
Mother
Daughter
Sister
Wife
Friend.
Going through the motions
Fog
Can’t see
What I’m doing
Don’t know
Don’t care to know
Don’t feel.
Loss of direction.
Who am I
What am I
Why am I still here.
Loss of inner happiness and joy,
Duh.
Writings shared by Bonnie, member of
The Mending Word
10 Part Series
Do you know that song "I Hope You Dance?" It starts with the words-- "I hope you never lose your sense of wonder." The thing is… I've lost the "wonder". The doe-eyed innocence. The curiosity. The intrigue. There are no more surprises. I don't wonder anymore because… I know. I know what the darkness of losing your parents feels like. It means losing out on milestones, on prom pictures and graduations. It means losing out on "family" vacations because pieces of your family are missing. It means losing your sense of safety in the world. Losing confidence that you have what it takes to be here alone. It means losing trust in hospitals and medical professionals. Losing hope that someone can save you, Losing faith in god and that "plan" people speak of. Losing time you should have had for more front yard football throws, family swims and coffee chats. Losing Christmas mornings and the moments your parents would have shined as grandparents. Losing the opportunity for them to ever see you love or be loved. Losing the opportunity for them to ever see you be a parent or hold your kids the way they could have. I've lost the wonder because… I know the outcome. On the other side of all… this… is just the end. It all dissolves into moments that were and no longer are. Even the ones that never got to happen. Because you've lost it. You've lost everything. … what wonder?
Bonnie Kelly, @bondooz
Writings shared by Faigy
member of
The Mending Word
10 Part Series
When I lost you, In a sense I lost everything.
I lost my best friend and my support system
I lost a listening ear and a person who knew me like no other
I say I lost everything, because to me the little things are everything. Our morning runs, our late night conversations, and everything in between.
I miss the times we would sing together, and the times we shopped together, I just simply miss your presence, I miss being able to speak my mind, and for you to hear my heart. And honestly I miss absolutely everything about you, the clothes you wore and the art you drew, now every time I paint I feel you in the brush, I hear you in every music note I play and I imagine you in every conversation I have. I miss all the summer and winter vacations we spent together, I miss traveling with you, I like to pretend your waving me goodbye everytime I leave the house, because that's how it should be here, you should be living in my tommorows, you should be living along with me, but your not and I miss you so so much.
Writings shared by anonymous member of
The Mending Word
10 Part Series
Although he loved giving and resented when we turned down his financial assistance, most of us were financially independent in our early teens. We got our own clothes, colognes, electronics etc.
I can't say he was my friend either. There are too many conversations I would not have wanted to have with him, and he, while he might've appreciated listening as my father, he wouldn’t have contributed much to them. It's just the way things were, and I'm not sure I would've wanted it any other way.
I was feeling empty the other day after looking at some older messages around the time he passed. There was physical pain in my chest. A kind of hollow pain, shooting from my chest to my throat.
What is it that I lost?
I cared and care about him more than I did anyone. He was the best person I knew. But it's not the memories of good times that causes this hollow type of pain. That's not loss that causes such grief. I still have the memory.
So what is it thats hurting?
There is the physical loss - no coffees, grocery shopping together, dinner invites etc. which, by the way, doing these simplest chore with him was an activity he literally looked forward to. He loved doing things with his kids, anything. That's a special feeling I think I can use more of these days.
But l think I also lost a certain innocence I was able to hide behind before. Now I am confronted with something I don’t know how to deal with yet -- the finality of death, which implies the finality of life, and everything in it.