When I awoke from a nap today, before I opened my eyes, I knew.
I could hear her voice telling me that it was time to get up.
And then she told me “I want you to know that I am here and
I am watching over you.”

In my mind, I could see her looking so young and so ethereal.
As she started to fade, I cried, “Wait, I want to go too”
She smiled and whispered, “It’s not your time yet but always remember that
I am watching over you.”

She told me that the love between a mother and child still carries on even in death.
No matter what may have happened between the two.
“So always know that I am here and know that
I am watching over you.

When you are troubled, the world is dark, and you do not know what to do.
Just talk to me, you are never alone, rest assured
I am watching over you.”

She said, “When you lie down at night and whisper
‘I miss you momma’
And think that you are only talking to the darkness in the room.
It makes me smile for I realize you can feel me in your heart and know that
I am watching over you.”

Finally, she said, “When the world becomes too much to handle
And the smiles become too few.
When you are ready to depart this life, just take my hand
I have been waiting for you.”

“I Love You Bunches and Bunches”

In 2007, on Christmas Day, my brother told me “I love you bunches and bunches” and sent me on my way.
He died three days later of mesothelioma/cancer of the lung.
He was not very old at all, only 53 years young.

I was standing in his doorway and turned to say “good-bye”, as I had done so many times in the past.
He said “Hey”, looked at me over his glasses, smiled and said “I love you bunches and bunches”
I never thought those words to me would be his last.

I told him “I love you bunches and bunches too” trying to hold back my tears.
All the while, I was trying to hurry out the door before he saw in my eyes all my fears.

Eight years later when mom followed my brother, those words too were the last ones we spoke to one another.  

Two days before she passed, she told me she was ready and that she “just wanted it to be over.”
All I could do was look at her lovingly, nod my understanding and tell her that I love her.

Even though the child in me wanted to scream “No God, please do not take my mother!”
I knew she wanted to go, as she was never the same after the death of my brother.

They say burying a child is the hardest thing to bear.
After my brother passed away, something in my mom was just no longer there.

My sister and I hoped that our mom would snap out of it and come back.
We never understood what it was our brother had that somehow we lacked.

I have always thought that when I lost my brother, I also lost my mom the same day.
She just never had any more interest in me or my sister’s lives in quite the same way.

Life had no meaning for our mother no matter what we said or tried.
It was like that for eight more years until the day she died.

She is with my brother now in Heaven and I am glad she is no longer in pain.
I guess with him she is basking in sunlight but down here with us, it was always just rain.

“I love you bunches and bunches” was the last thing I told my mom as I blew her a kiss from the door.
She smiled at me and said, “I love you bunches and bunches” and would never to me say anything more.

You smile
as you mentally
slip on your disguise.

You smile
as you look deeply
into their trusting eyes.

You smile
as you put into words
all the things they want to hear.

You smile
with a voice
that sounds so incredibly sincere.

You smile
while reveling in the fact
that they do not have a clue.

You smile
because you know
that they do not see the malevolent you.

You smile
so clever, so witty
in addition, you pour on the charm.

You smile
since you have them convinced
that you mean them no harm.

You smile
and begin to lose sight
of what is reality and what is a lie.

You smile
at your power
to always make them cry.

You smile
as you continue to play
not caring that it is a sick, twisted little game.

You smile
knowing that when you are through
you will not even remember their name.

You smile
as you realize
that you own them body and soul.

You smile
at their ignorance thinking to yourself
“You fool, how could you not know?”

You smile
as you continue *******
every bit of life out of them.

You smile
as you zoom in on and start stalking
your next impending victim.

You smile
as you move on
feeling no guilt or remorse and certainly without a care.

You smile
as you take all your ill-gotten gains
with you back to your lair.

You smile
with conceit and arrogance,
“This is a game I always win.”

You smile
and laugh aloud assured,
that you will get away with it again.

You smile ……….

I thought when someone realized that he or she were dying,
That they would want to spend time with loved ones without trying.

Now my mother is gone and I know she was just preparing for her day.
However, it is still hard for me to accept my mother pushing me away.

That was our time together and I wanted to spend every minute with her that I could.
It was not until she had already gone that the dying process was something I understood.

But even though I now understand, it still hurts me to this day
Because the time we had left was precious to me, but my mother kept pushing me away.

She always told me that she loved me but then would ask me to leave.
It was heartbreaking to walk out the door as I found it hard to believe.

I feel as if I have been cheated, like a selfish child who did not get their way.
I keep telling myself to be grateful for the time I did get to spend with her and try to forget the pain of yesterday.

RIP Barbara Cheek
April 8, 1932 – December 31, 2015
I wish we had more time….

My mom passed away 4 days ago.  I feel as if I am out to sea in a boat all alone.  I am just drifting – completely lost without any sense of direction.

At first, I was numb and somewhat in denial that this had happened.  The sea seemed fairly calm.  Now, wave after violent wave of emotions slap against the boat relentlessly.  I am terrified of going over the side into the darkness of the water.  I realize that I have to hold on tight and not let that happen ere the darkness will envelope me completely and I will be lost forever.  It is as if they are waiting for me to drop my guard.  When I do, I am hit square in the face once again with another emotional wave of memories and then, finally, reality.

There have been plenty of other times in my life when the darkness had tried and succeeded in taking over.  I could always go to my mother no matter what the problem, situation or circumstance and she would always help me find the light.  She has pulled me out of the darkness more times than I can count.  I hate to imagine what I would have done without her wisdom and guidance through those dark times.  I have always told people that I could not have handpicked from God a better mother than the one I was given.

Now she is gone and the darkness is trying to creep in again.  What am I going to do without her?  I miss her so much; the pain is almost unbearable.  It hurts to breathe.  It is a constant knot in the pit of your stomach that never eases and a hole in your heart that will never heal.  Oh no, the darkness has discovered the hole in my heart, has found a way in and is slowly taking over.  I am doomed!


RIP Barbara Cheek (my little momma)
April 8, 1932 – December 31, 2015
You will be greatly missed!

Going to bed now is incredibly hard
When I think about how cold it is for her buried out in the yard.

At bedtime, I would pick her up and take her with me to bed.
I still have to stop myself from searching for her and then I remember - she's dead.

She was my sleep buddy for 21 years.
To this day, I can't lie down without being in tears.

She would snuggle up next to me and we would spoon.
Now I look out my window and say goodnight to her grave lit up by the light of the moon.

I feel as if my heart is being ripped from my chest.
How long this pain is going to last I can only guess.

I hate going to bed and stay up long into the night
Doing anything to avoid that painful space of time before daylight.

Vicki Cheek
RIP Smokey Cat
December 6, 2015