Grieving

My Dad died in February and I have kept a journal of thoughts, emotions, etc. about him, and how his death has affected me. I wrote the following after noticing that I felt a swell of emotion rise through me from my heart to my throat and being aware of how my mind came in and tried to block the emotion/energy. I then just wrote and this flowed out. I’ve tidied the writing up a little, but it’s basically as I wrote it.

 

The flow of emotion
that needs release,
a sudden burst that
comes up from the heart.
A wave that can’t be stopped, until
it reaches the head.
Then the mind comes in
swiftly
and stops the energy. Dead.

For longer it is trapped,
adding to the years
of imprisonment.
The trauma of the girl
must be kept
under wraps.
Don’t show it.
Don’t let them see
the pain and the sadness.
Keep strong.

But…
It is getting harder
to keep that control.
It’s taking over,
it’s seeping out, and it wails
and it shouts.
It has a force.
The force is strong,
has a million years
behind it.

Not just the little girl
but all humanity is voiced.
The line that goes back
into history needs to speak.
To be spoken.
The damn has to break,
the tears allowed out.
To cry a river,
a sea,
an ocean.
The force taking with it
long held hurt and
emotion.

‘I want my daddy’
the voice cries.
Speaking
for man, woman
and child.
Snot flowing, tears streaming,
the release at last.
Heart taking place
of the mind
and is part of the healing
and calm that can take place.

Now there’s more room
for clear thinking,
less stickiness,
more true feeling.
A clarity rings out,
and
within the clear vessel
that is the girl, the woman,
the being.
Part of all and part of
nothing.
A space, an energy is here.
Never ending, always flowing,
and it goes on
and on and on…

This piece of writing
can’t be ended
as this energy
never dies.
So
to stop but know
there is no ending
is what my heart now decides.

Still not the end,
it is true, but
something has to stop and
somehow.
Let’s just pause,
and say thanks
to everything and no-thing.
Just be in the now.
Why can’t I end this?
Am I afraid?
Do I think I won’t be here
any more if I can’t write
and keep on?

To end is so difficult,
I don’t want you to go,
but
remember I must,
that you’re with me
and you know
that I loved and love you still.

My heart is content.
I can rest and stop needing
what seemed always out of reach.
I now grasp it but knowing
that it is not true,
somehow.
What I needed was trust,
was being grounded and true.
I did that,
I let go
and then,
at last,
I found you.

Celebrating a Wonderful Woman

I wrote a blog a short while ago with a poem I wrote after my wonderful friend Claire died suddenly. I would like to post the poem again as I have made a few small changes (please see the end of this blog).

One night last week, a few nights before I was to attend the celebration of her life, I was feeling so restless. I don’t know where it came from (well I actually I think I do know….it came from Claire) but I suddenly had a compulsion to draw one of her cats. I chose a picture and got the paper, charcoal, white chalk and eraser out. Not long later (it seemed not long but, as it such a meditative state, I have no idea how much time passes when creating) there in front of me was a drawing of her cat Darcey.

I am so grateful that I can now recognise the moments when I need to be creating. I have picked up a pen, pencil, piece of charcoal, paintbrush several times over the last few months rather than wallow in sadness, anger or whatever emotion is taking over at that moment in time.

I feel that the creating of the poem and the picture is a fitting tribute to an amazing woman but, more than that, it somehow made me feel close to her even though she is physically not here any more and that has given me some sort of comfort. It has been a therapeutic part of the grieving process. I shared the poem and picture with those that loved her and it felt that it brought some sort of comfort to them too.

Here is the slightly amended poem:

Feeling Feline

So lean…
What do you mean?
Well…you know, lithe and clean?
But, what do you mean?
You are elegant and soft, holding that intelligent head aloft.
Oh, I see….I think…
With your silver sheen
you stretch and preen.
You can be quite a match for those not quite clever enough
to know what you really mean.
I still don’t understand.
Ahhhh, but you are far too special you see, not like them or me.
You are, in fact, so matter of fact…
and yet an enigma, you are cryptic, mysterious and,
let’s face it, you are…
JUST LIKE A CAT.
Now do you see?
With those impossible blue eyes you are
cool as a cucumber, warm as can be.
You live to be free, yet you hold those special ones close.
You give your heart to all those you love,
especially to your dark beauty…
The one who stayed true, the one who really knew you,
Knew you the most…the one that
you knew, you loved.
You love us all…we know and we absolutely without any doubt…
LOVE YOU
Meow…
Meow.

For Claire and all who knew her by RS
5 March 2016