I came across a poem I wrote to Jeff for his birthday…I don’t
know how long ago I wrote this poem, five or perhaps ten years ago. I remember taking my time when I wrote this…Jeff
had been really ill, falling down all the time, living every moment in pain…I
loved my son. I love him still.
The night I met Jeff Scott, the author of ‘Who will be my
Judas,’ he told me there were no such thing as coincidences. I am beginning to believe him…or at the very
least I am beginning to change my own mind in coincidences….or was it once
again…’The Here After’?
Last night I went downstairs to shut off the sprinkler. The hose bib is right outside the backdoor
and the wind had been blowing very cold that day. Instead of going out the kitchen door and
down the back stairs I chose to go downstairs and then through the family room
to the back door. Just to keep myself
warm.
I rarely go downstairs to the family room. It wasn’t too many years ago that this was my
place of study while I was in the bachelor program. I would come down to the family room and hide
out while I studied or used the computer.
There on my computer desk sat a file holder. A file holder which still holds all my school
papers for all these years. Every time I go down stairs I think I should
go through my school papers, and until yesterday I just never took the time to
do this. My husband Steve has been gone
nearly seven years. I graduated exactly
one month after Steve passed away. That
is the span of time which I filed my last paper in this small file container. Upon shutting the backdoor, I saw this
container and picked it up to take upstairs with me. As I picked it up the dusty box, I couldn’t
help noticing the inch or more of dust atop my now unused desk, and everything
around it. I carried my file container
upstairs and couldn’t believe how heavy the files were. I sat them on the coffee table and went to
the kitchen to pour myself a glass of juice.
As I looked through the tabs on the folders I could clearly
see all the classes which I had taken. I
had the papers filed by classes. It was
so typical of something I would have done back then, I was one of the most systematic
people I knew. I was very organized,
very neat, kept an immaculate house, and everything in my house had its own
special place…back then anyways. Upon
fingering through the tabs I saw a pink paper clip wrapped around some papers. The folder these papers were in did not have
a name. I pulled the papers out to find
a poem I had written to Jeff years earlier.
The very first paper I pulled out was this poem! It took milliseconds for the tears to pour
from my eyes. Pour, like an overflowing
damn. It had been months since I had sobbed
so hard. Months…I could not stop the
tears. I just let it out until I could
not cry anymore…
Earlier that very day I kept forcing memories of Jeff
back. I was invited to church and afterwards
to lunch at the home of my preacher. I
told them I wouldn’t go to church but would be happy to lunch with the
family. As I drove to their house yesterday
I was weeping for Jeff. Upon arriving I
pushed away the tears and put on my happy face for them. It is what I do these days, I pretend to be happy in order to make those around me feel good. One of Jeff's friends posted this poem on my Facebook...it pretty much describes me as I was visiting my friends yesterday.
Ask My Mom How She Is
My Mom, she tells a lot of lies,
She never did before.
But from now until she dies,
She'll tell a whole lot more.
Ask my Mom how she is
And because she can't explain,
She will tell a little lie
Because she can't describe the pain.
Ask my Mom how she is,
She'll say "I'm alright."
If that's the truth, then tell me,
why does she cry each night?
Ask my Mom how she is,
She seems to cope so well.
She didn't have a choice you see,
Nor the strength to yell.
Ask my Mom how she is,
"I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth,
Just say your heart is broken.
She'll love me all her life,
I loved her all of mine.
But if you ask her how she is,
She'll lie and say she's fine.
I am Here in Heaven.
I cannot hug from here.
If she lies to you don't listen,
Hug her and hold her near.
On the day we meet again,
We'll smile and I'll be bold.
I'll say, "You're lucky to get in here, Mom,
With all the lies you told!"
~Unknown
I was greeted with hugs and kisses as I had not seen these beautiful people in quite some time. They know of my fight with God, I have not lied to them nor anyone else about my feelings. As usual the conversation turned to someone
who had lost a child seven years ago, (I think people forget I too lost a child),
“and still the mother grieves for that child,” she said. The conversation continued, “I wonder how
long a parent grieves.” All I wanted to
do was change the subject. This is what
I do, I always change the subject these days.
People who haven’t lost a child are curious, they dwell on grief and how
long it will take to ‘Get over It,’ as
the conversation continues they wonder aloud how long it would take to grieve
the loss of a child. They seemed to have
forgotten my grief is still fresh…not seven years down the road! All I really wanted to do was change the
subject...Stop! I wanted to shout...but instead just sat there, smiled, and nodded. People need to just learn to
accept things as they are and have conversation on subjects they would normally
talk about. Would they have just brought that conversation 'out of the blue' hadn't I lost Jeff? I think not. In other words just because somebody
has a death in their life the conversation does not have to be about death of
somebody else. If you want to ask them
how they are doing…then just simply ask. Perhaps
it was their way of saying, 'Olgie you are going to grieve for a very long
time, I feel for you.'
Perhaps it is too hard for people to say those words directly to me. Not that I needed to hear someone
tell me that. I, like this mother will grieve for many years...after all, it is I who is right smack in the throes of
grieving. I've been down this road many times...I know it will take time...possibly many years. I didn't need anyone to remind me of that.
On my way home from their house,
again, I was thinking about Jeff and started to weep. It is what I do these days I weep…a lot. When others aren't around I do not need to wear a mask, I weep.
So last night when I found the poem and held it in my hand I cried harder than I had
cried in months. I cried as though I had
just heard the news of Jeff’s death. I cried. I still
cry…
Poem to Jeff
When the morning sun,
Shines in my face…
I think of you!
When I feel the warmth,
Of a soft summer breeze…
I think of you!
When the sun shines red,
On the horizon’s edge…
I think of you!
On a dark clear night,
And the stars shine bright…
I think of you!
A beautiful child with deep blue eyes,
I see her face…
I think of you!
I stretch my arms to hold you tight,
My arms are empty, you’re nowhere in sight…
I think of you!
My beautiful child so far away,
You’re a handsome man now…
I think of you!
I hope you enjoy this wonderful day,
With those closest to your heart…
I’m thinking of you!
Happy Birthday!
Love,
Mom
How is it of all the files in this container I come across
this poem first? I used to write poems quite often...what happened? When did that stop? Steve loved my poems...perhaps that was when I stopped writing them...after his death. All I know is I used to write poetry to both Steve and Jeff, and I also know I needed to come across this poem…for
me to remember just how very much I loved my son. I need this poem for you to see just how very
close we were. I sent Jeff this poem instead
of a card. To this day every word is still true. I remember him saying, “Oh
really?”
I miss my son. I miss everything about him. I
think of Jeff all the time. My every thought while not at work is of
my son...and even while at work thoughts of Jeff are always on my mind. His sense of humor, his voice, our
conversations. I miss Jeff more than I
can explain. There are no words to
describe my vacant heart. There are no
words to describe my loss. Read the words in this poem…they describe how
I felt then, they describe how I feel now. I needed
to come across this poem for my own remembrance of how things once were.
Was it
a coincidence? Was it Jeff who once
again helped me…helped me remember how very much I loved my son, and how very
much I love him still. I miss Jeff’s
love for me…or is he still loving me from afar? As I go about my day I come across these little bits of memories the two of us shared and I long to have my son back. I needed to find this poem I wrote years ago to my son...if for no other reason than to have a good hard cry. I carry this grief with me...all through the day...all through the night. It has become part of who I now am. I am a widow who grieves a child...
