Window Story

For those of you who liked the hyacinth, I wanted you to see the little vase. Jackie gave it to me years ago. She always brought me little things from her yard sale forays. So sweet.

The balloons, I gave my mom years ago. She kept it in her kitchen window. Looking out her window one would see a beautiful garden and the barn in the distance.

The lighter, the dark object not very clear, was Freddie’s. It states: some days all I want to be is a missing person.

Obviously, I like pink flamingos…I do not need any more!

Wind, Thunder and a story

The winds are angry tonight

Rushing along open spaces

Trees twist and turn

Writhing in pain

As I watch out the kitchen window.

As the undulating waves of wind torture everything in its path.

Thunder parts the clouds

Allowing the lightning

To zig zag up towards the sky

Thunder growling and groaning.

As I listening to the softly falling rain.

Story:

I told Freddie: I am not going to write about my grief and memories of you…walking back down the hall towards my room, the wind became very anger above our little house. Was it angry with me?

Is the Universe talking to me?

We both loved the rain. Listen to the rain. The answer is held within the raindrops.

Listen to the rain.

I Am Grateful

I am grateful you lived

for 54 years 6 months and 14 days

I am grateful you held my hand twice

and asked me not to go

I am grateful I stayed

to drive the roads and make the memories

I now have of us

I am grateful  you walked these floors

for four of your 18 years here

with me

I am grateful you sang songs

until almost the end

I am grateful I was allowed to spend

those last months of your life with you

I am grateful I was allowed to spend

time in your lovely home with you

I am grateful the words were not

always harsh and we could say

I love you

I am grateful for the time you gave

sharing

your GLXP dreams with me

I am grateful for this computer of yours

I type on now that still has your

fingerprints on the screen

I am grateful I have your paintings

to enjoy even though they bring pain

at times as I look at them and

remember you as a 12 year old

I am grateful  your friends have

supported me in my grief

they come from all over the world

to ask how I am and to express their own

loss of you

I am grateful you touched so many lives

in such a positive manner

I am grateful you lived

and God gave you to me

to rear and then share

you with the world to see

your kind heart

 

I keep typing all these things

to ebb the flow of tears

Sunday at three zero five

the time you died

on a Sunday.

I am grateful the rain

is falling now to mingle with

my tears and perhaps

one tiny drop of rain will

fall upon your soul and’

and you can reach out

and touch my hand

again.

Love, Mom