Tag Archives: death

Missing Mom

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A mom’s hug lasts long after she lets go. ~Author unknown

Moms

Are the

Official

Storytellers

Of our lives, and once

They pass on, we become

Aware there’s nobody else

Who knows us and loves us the way

Our moms did. Perhaps that’s why losing

Your mom feels like having your heart cut out.

Those who tell the stories rule the world. ~Author unknown

Storytellers bolster our confidence,

Remind us of our identity,

Preserve our family history.

Other females might step up

To fill the vacancy,

But nobody can

Replace our mom

When she’s gone

From our

World.

 

Note: Poetry form is a Double Etheree.

Looking for Signs

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God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled. ~Author unknown

As many of you now know, I lost my mom two weeks ago.

Her passing wasn’t totally unexpected because she had several medical conditions (any one of which could’ve killed her). Yet death is always unexpected, and we’re never ready for it.

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Run Free, Dallas

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Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. ~Roger Caras, American wildlife photographer and writer

From my last post, you know that my beloved Sheltie Dallas was escorted to the Rainbow Bridge on Monday afternoon.

What you can’t know is how much I miss him.

Me and Dallas on Saturday, Feb. 29, 2020

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R.I.P. Dallas

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You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us. ~Robert Louis Stevenson, Scottish novelist

Nov. 28, 2006 – March 2, 2020

Good dogs never die

They live in our hearts always

Wish mine was here though.

 

Note: “Now I know I’ve got a heart ’cause it’s breaking.” Quote from the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz

Death Follows Life

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The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity. ~Seneca, Roman philosopher

The dreary gray days of winter always seem to bring a flood of deaths.

Obituaries crowd the pages of our daily newspaper. Local funeral homes bulge with mourners paying their respects to the dying and doing what they can to comfort the left-behind family. Endless processions snake their way through town en route to one of the cemeteries.

None of us wants to think about dying, but let’s be realistic. We don’t get out of here alive. And before we go, chances are we’ll have to attend a wake or two. So what’s proper to say at a visitation to those who are grieving … and what’s not?

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Dangers of Glass

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Painful though parting be, I bow to you as I see you off to distant clouds. ~Emperor Saga, 52nd emperor of Japan

birds

Two birds playing on a sunny Spring day
Flew too close to a shiny glass building
And crash landed.
The closer one was merely stunned.
Sat on the sidewalk blinking and gathering its bearings.
The farther one wasn’t as fortunate
And lay on its back, feet skyward.
Maybe it hit the glass too hard.
Maybe it hit the glass wrong.
Maybe it wasn’t as physically strong.
A nearby maintenance fellow with a sack
Explained he’d already picked up several
Of the delicate creatures this week.
All were dead.
Shouldn’t man with his knowledge do better
Than construct buildings that attract wildlife
To their death?

Note: Did you know up to a billion birds die every year in the U.S. after colliding with windows?

One Last Goodbye

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You’re in pain,

And I’m sorry.

I didn’t cause it,

Can’t absolve it.

I hate seeing you hurting.

Hate watching, helpless,

as you close off from the world

and those who need you.

Hate seeing the spark he so loved

seep right out from your soul.

Just know that I’m here

When you’re ready to talk

Or need a shoulder to cry on.

To reminisce over happier times

And sunny days.

How his eyes crinkled

When he told a joke.

How safe you felt

Wrapped in his strong arms.

How right it seemed

Spooning together through the night.

I know your house cries empty tears now.

If it’s any comfort, I miss him, too.

 

Note: When I wrote this, I was thinking of an older lady/friend of mine, who lost her beloved husband to cancer last year. Sometimes even our best intentions fall short, and all we can do is be there, when of course we’d prefer making it all better!

Another farewell

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About two weeks before Christmas, one of my mom’s sisters suddenly collapsed on her kitchen floor after suffering  a massive stroke.
She was dead less than 36 hours later.
Once again, my family is experiencing grief and coping with the loss of a loved one during the holidays (my dad passed away on New Year’s Eve, 2008).
Once again, our focus shifts from happiness and gift-giving and tinsel on Christmas trees to sorrow and funeral arrangements and tears.
The child in me screams, “Enough already! Turn Death off! He’s too cruel at this time of year.”
But nobody asked for my opinion.
Auntie M. was one-of-a-kind. Clean as a pin, she always had a dishrag in her hands, mopping up someone’s messes, toweling off her already-spotless counters.
Her kitchen was one of my favorite places. The smells wafting around there were enough to melt the cockles of the meanest heart — warm butter (a stick at a time), chocolate chip cookies (mine, without nuts), snow-white divinity, rich and creamy fudge, fig cake cookies (made from an old family recipe).
And you couldn’t get out of her house without at least one colorful round tin filled to the brim with some of those treats!
As if anybody would turn down goodies, fattening or not!
In her younger days, Auntie M. was quite a hoot. We kids would listen enthralled as she and her husband, my parents, and the other siblings and their spouses would gather with their mother (my grandma) around the kitchen table for a rousing game of penny poker.
Oh, the laughter! Oh, the chiding! Oh, sound of coins and cards hitting the table and ice cubes clinking in glasses!
Auntie M. also was quite the fisherwoman. She and her husband had a cabin of sorts along a lake (in addition to their family home), and they loved spending time reeling in fish, which she promptly battered and fried (more yummy smells!)
One of Auntie M.’s favorite expressions was “cotton pickin’.” Only years later did I realize it was her way of protecting us kids from some of the not-so-nice words flying from the mouths of my other relatives!
My mom talked to Auntie M. the evening before her collapse. She said she’d had a wonderful day visiting with her kids and their kids, and she was looking forward to getting together wih my mom over Christmas, to share a few laughs, catch up on old times, and do sisterly things.
It wasn’t to be.
While we mourn for the woman who left us, we rejoice that she’s no longer in pain, that she’s reunited with her beloved husband and parents, and that one day, we’ll see her again.
This is the hope of Christmas, that the Baby lying in the manger came to free us from death and draw us to Himself forever.
Merry Christmas 2010 to all my family and friends!

R.I.P., Declan

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Shock, sadness, and anger are in the forefront today as word spreads about the death of a 20-year-old student at the University of Notre Dame.

Declan Sullivan, a junior film and marketing major from Long Grove, IL, was killed when the hydraulic scissor lift he was videotaping football practice from on Wednesday toppled over in 50-plus mph wind gusts.

This happened just before 5 p.m. EST. The young man was taken almost immediately to a local hospital, where he was pronounced dead.

I didn’t know Declan; however, as the mom of one of his fellow students, I’m reeling from the news.

How could something like this happen? Where were the adults who were supposed to be in charge? Why was this student up on a portable tower 50 feet off the ground with sustained winds at 40 mph (when manufacturers of such an apparatus acknowledge they shouldn’t be used in winds over 30 mph)?

According to news reports, this kind of tower is used by all the major college football programs, as well as the NFL. At Notre Dame, I understand, one typically sits in each of the goal-line areas, in addition to permanent towers situated along the 50-yard line. Perhaps it’s time for a new, safer way to get a bird’s-eye view of practice?

Now everybody knows that, the higher up you go, the stronger the winds. And this was a wicked day, not fit for man or beast. In fact, earlier in the day, students were sent to basements and other safe places when tornado warning sirens blared out.

Football practice the evening before was moved indoors because of inclement weather. Shouldn’t it have been inside on Wednesday, too?

I can’t help shuddering when I think of the horrors this young man endured just doing his job that day. Reports indicate he posted online his trepidation at being on the tower in 60 mph wind gusts and called it “terrifying.”

Why did he stay up there??

A spokesman for the University told a news conference today that pep rallies and such have been canceled this week, but the game on Saturday versus Tulsa will go on in Declan’s memory.

I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to say what Declan would, or wouldn’t, have wanted. But I suspect it will be a subdued atmosphere, and winning (or losing) will have little to do with it.

Notre Dame officials assure us a full investigation will be conducted. That’s as it should be.

But the fact remains that this young man died way before his time. His grieving family, friends, and colleagues will need to band together, taking comfort from their faith and one another.

I’m sure there’s plenty of blame to go around on this one, but “blame” won’t bring Declan back.

Such a senseless tragedy.