A Symphony In The Dark

August 24th, 2015

blog- margarets symphony

This is not just another blog, another poem, or a heart-felt piece of writing. This is my heart. My heart beating on the page, a heart throbbing with love and sorrow, gratitude and pain.

You have left a hole so large
I’ve fallen in.
Your hand will not reach down this time,
there is no lifting me out,
no hugging or holding.
Your words of encouragement,
will not be heard.
Down here, there is only silence.
A damp empty, and suffocating
silence.
The darkness steals my breath
and swaps it for big clumsy tears.

I cry until my throat hurts,
my head hurts, my heart hurts.
All the words crumble into sobs
until nothing can be said.
Until the emptiness is filled with grief.
I sit in the hole,
me and my grief, side by side,
for there is nothing else to do down here.
It’s rocky, jaggered and sharp.
I hurt all over.
But I sit.

Because sitting is ok.
Scrambling out the top is ok,
and grabbing another hand is ok.
Screaming for help,
and making a cup of tea is ok.
Doing push ups in the hole
and writing I love you in blood on the walls is ok.
But for now I just sit.
I cry, I sit I cry I sit.

Yet somehow between the sobs
I hear a single sound.
I cannot move, or think things
for it can only be heard when I let go of the noise;
The what’s ifs, maybes and longings.
The wishes for more.
For in the damp dark suffocating silence
I can hear
your heart beat.
Whispering faintly,
“Just love.”
A single beat, a simple beat.
A rhythm of love
now within me.
Your heart beat, is my heart beat.
Your strength is my strength
Your light is my light
Your gentleness is my gentleness.

And upon hearing my own,
I begin to hear the gentle beats of another, and another
as I realise there are many of us down here
in this huge dark hole.
More pain, more loss, while our hearts beat together.
I may not know your name,
your story, or your pain.
But I do recognize
the familiar rhythms of love
we have all been given.
A throbbing love, a beat within us all.
An echo into the light
waiting patiently, for when we are ready
to climb back out.
But for right now, here,
I sit very still
so I can hear our hearts play the symphony
only you, our beautiful Margaret,
could compose.

 

 

blog- lying downThis photo of my mother-in-law lying on the ground next to my upset daughter sums up her whole essence. She lay on the floor beside you when everything felt too hard. Margaret knew how to be there when things got tough, when you didn’t want to go to bed, or put on your pants. She didn’t make you do anything or be anyone, she let you lie in your undies until you were ready to get up.
I am not ready to get up yet.

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  1. Kathy says:

    what a beautiful authentic incredible piece you have written. It brings me to tears. My mother passed away in 2013 and she was this image to me.whever I was she got into it with me.thank you very much for your honest sharing of love for Margaret.i am sitting here with you too.

  2. wendy moira says:

    Losing our parents is beyond description, except you have described it so well. You will grieve and heal in your own time, and the memories you have will always be clear and bright. My heart is with you.

  3. Joni Holland says:

    It is not a hole, rather a tunnel. Trust me…someday you will see the light at the end of it. Bless you.

  4. Lyn says:

    Beautiful and so real.  I felt that when my parents each died.  But you do crawl out and move on with their spirits hanging on tight in everything you do.  Thank you for sharing your heart.

  5. Bernadette says:

    Hugs of comfort to you all as we sit quietly together listening to the beat of love. So well said, Meg!

  6. kat russell says:

    Thank you for this. We need to learn how to grieve.Our culture has some rituals for it, but it is not enough.We need techniques for fully expressing the loss and ways to put ourselves back together.I am taking a friend to the beach of Lake Michigan on Thursday to help her with the death of her lover on Sunday.She will tell the waves all about it. She can rage and scream. Or sit quietly and let the wind and sound blow her soul clear. It will be a beginning.I created a ritual when my mom died of grieving for the infant, the toddler, the school girl, the young women, wife, mother, and senior that left the world bereft. It emptied me. In my mind’s eye I hugged them all goodbye. And I received in a new way some of the love one each of these absent beings.Creating and sharing rituals that would help move us though the passages of grief would be a valuable project. Each of us has different needs. And the needs shift as we lurch though the pain.Thank you for what you have shared here. Another beginning. Endings are beginnings.Namaste.   

  7. Kyp McVey says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your mum. How much she touched so many and was such a blessing to so many. My heart and prayers go out to you all. Thanks for your page. It brings solace and comfort to many.

  8. Kiersten Dart says:

    This is exactly how I felt when my mom died.  Though it has been four years since then, I still feel a huge hole in my life.  It will always be there.  I just got used to it.  Like a missing tooth, it feels weird and empty and you just get used to the weird empty feeling.  You miss that specific motherly outpouring of love, knowing how fiercely someone cared for you.  Hugs to all of you.

  9. Gary Cox says:

    A very touching tribute to a wonderful mother.  Know that you both will enjoy spending eternity with Miss Margaret.

  10. Risa says:

    I’m crying with you. I’m holding on with you. My mother is becoming increasingly confused with little short term memory avialable to her, and it is such a painful process for me to witness. Is she still my Mom? Of course, but I’m so very aware that her 91st year will be challenging the two of us in new ways…and one day soon I’ll have to say goodbye. Thank you Meg. Your words are beautiful.

  11. Susan Miller says:

    I am so sorry for your loss.  It is big.  I too lost my mother in 1999.  She was like Margaret.  She loved deeply.  That love never leaves me, however I yearn everyday to see her face again.  I know I will.  Without a doubt.  This poem is absolutely grief revealed in words. Thank you for this reminder of the deep that is still there.  It is where I feel most alive.  That is grief.  That is the solitude felt, yet connection with our humaness.  May you be blessed, dear ones!

  12. Norma Jean Barker says:

    Dear Meg,Thank you reaching deep to find words to express your pain. Thank you for your honesty.Love  to you and your family,  Norma Jean 

  13. Donna says:

    What an amazing heartfelt description of pain and grief. I know there are no words of comfort I can offer. Although we must do grief alone and in our own way there are many of us holding your hand in your silence. I’m so sorry for your loss, my thoughts are with you (and your family) in these gut wrenching moments of pain and sadness. For now, just for now, your time stands still while the rest of the world keeps moving–hold on to those moments of light that peek through only to become a bright light that your mom will shine on you more and more. Sending you a hug.

  14. Emily says:

    Sending you all love and light. Thank you Meg.  May Margaret’s love live on in your lives…

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