Re-written today... dusted off and delivered, to our beautiful friends, the Chambers...
Ron, Nathan, Ian, Jill...
We know... you can't see us... but you are not forgotten!! The Reimers remember... we are here... with you in this room, now... as is your Margie!!
___________
remember her with us, as you read and hear these words. it is good to remember... to never forgot... a cycle of life, brought full circle, best in remembrance. and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” this is why we line our shelves, our walls with them, and visit inscribed stones behind fences. you are not forgotten, Margie Chambers!
~
posted first in the Christmas season of 2014, the original post script remains and speaks of my original motivation in writing this, but events this year prompt my re-post, if nothing but as a reminder to all of us to look beneath the surface with intentionality and to see the pain that many walk in daily. though they will shield it from uncaring eyes, they are likely to let in those who show they truly care. and is not this, the truest, the finest, the greatest of Christmas gifts we could give such a one?
~
it is a storm approaching,
not the tempestuous kind;
of driving rain or whirling wind,
but a storm all the same;
a mingling of sorts,
a marriage that blends,
my joy with my tears;
my hopes and my fears,
of life and of death,
of all that has come,
with what has not yet;
where photos and albums,
and letters and cards;
are all we can touch,
of what has gone by.
yet there's a tree to light,
there are gifts to wrap,
there are cards to send
to loved ones dear;
while the hug that we wish,
the one we most want,
it's the one we can't give,
caught... in its grip;
this our loss has us,
ties us in knots.
for memories and laughter,
their kindest words,
and shouts of joy;
these are fading away,
and yet... are all that remain.
uninvited to the table,
these call in the park,
at Sunday Mass
and the post office,
but especially the back porch,
when it is quiet after dark.
these join us at parties,
where thoughts of our missing,
join the gay, happy greetings;
and on Christmas morn,
when gifts lie unopened;
their chair empty still,
at dinner... a space,
no one ever will fill;
in their place is a candle,
a scent we know well,
a light we'll not crush;
it's the closest we'll get,
to their presence we so miss.
the storm on the inside,
one that no one else sees;
as they stroll down the street,
as they shop merrily;
our hearts beat... quietly,
inside we are breaking,
this storm threatens to drown;
but no one will save us,
because no one's around;
who ever would notice,
or knows how to care?
its the cry of our heart
that no one can hear.
our tears brushed aside,
hoping no one can see;
this storm it is raging,
raging wildly in me.
i looked for a card,
my thoughts to express,
but the cards in the store
say nothing like this,
no words such as "weeping",
or "anguish" are found;
no topics like "lonely" or "angry",
in the Christmas card aisle.
so just how to reconcile,
my juxtaposition?
how can I quell,
this sense of foreboding
that i know all too well?
truth is... i cannot!
i must go through
with this marriage.
and pray that some day,
soon... i can hope,
that i will awaken,
to see sunshine again;
and consider these memories,
not nightmares, but friends.
~
post script.
"blessed are those who morn, for they shall be comforted" Matthew 5:4
*these are so many among us who mourn, in particular at what are otherwise joyous occasions. for these ones, Christmas only adds to the acuteness of their pain. for them, Christmas is a storm they know is coming, a time when they must prepare for, battening down the hatches of their soul, so they are assured their grief does not leak out on the joy of everyone around. my advice for us all- know who walks near you well enough to reach out to them, give them a shoulder to weep on, share your tears with theirs. assure them you have not forgotten. repeat the name of their loved one, a name they long to hear others speak. for most of us, this name is one you cannot say too often. speak in the present tense of their loved one for they are not lost, they are still present and very much a part of the grieving one's life. as just one of many examples, remember... a mother who has lost her only child is still a mother. it is a title that she still bears, coming with all the burden, yet without any future benefit, these having been stripped away. love her, hold her, be shelter for her heart in the coming Christmas storm.
