The other night I was watching the coverage of the two massacres and it hit me hard.  How will the survivors cope?  Loved ones ripped from them at a moment’s notice – long before their time.  At least with Mom I knew it was only a matter of time at the beautiful age of 95.  I had cared for her for the last few years and the loss is palpable.

I’ve been receiving Network Care for muscular/skeletal issues, which have been mostly resolved, but there has been an added bonus of opening my mind and spirit as well. The tears came for those who were killed, their families and for my loss. I have not written much, if anything, until through tears the following flowed:


2 thoughts on “Grief

  1. Grief marks us in ways we don’t understand until it happens. Your mother was lucky to have such a son caring for her. I like both the owning of your own feelings and the openess of your holding of her in this poem.


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