Still Breathing cautiously Welded to the moment The room rotates through me And there, caught in reflection All sound peeling away She stands before me.
“Do I know you?”
The face looking back With eyes fixed in mute reply But for the wind, that lends its voice She speaks.
“You are me.” “I died for you.” “And I will die many times more.” “For it is a time of echoes.”
The impression of her tender hand Clasping to her last possession Unfolded as petals from a pale pink rose Blooming for the last time. And scrawled upon her fading palm Carefully sketched it read As the mirror erased her from my eyes Branding across my heart Her words
“Let me live.”
I‘ll not forget that lonely figurine Upon whose frame the past has perched With it’s painful talons clenching tight The burdens that were hers to bear Are ashes now Left for me to gather To cast Amongst seeds of hope Water in the rocks Current to rapids Flowing quickly Into a time of echoes.
I decided to start this thread so that I could therapeutically air out some musty memories that are playing tag with my head.
Jan. 22 was 'bomb day' here.
However, as I've mentioned before on my last thread, Water in the Rocks, the red flags and flares were everywhere by this time last year. Life was waving it's arms and screaming from the shore, "There's a tsunami coming and it's headed your way". Like a twit, I just stood there dumbfounded neck deep in ignorance until - it crashed on me. Squished me like a bug.
So, I think I'll probably focus much of this thread on the topic of 'memories'. Cause I got lot's of em.
I know some folks will want to tell me NOT to focus on those hurtful thoughts of the past, but unfortunately.... they're focused on me. I'm going to give them their fifteen minutes of fame and then banish them to some desert island in the back of my head.....hopefully. Not sure I have enough room for them all.
I'll be back. I'm a little crossed-eyed from being up most of the night. Thanks to those delightful "memories".
I don't think they can just be pushed down inside of you, I think they have to have some resolution to the thought of them before that can happen with them. At least that seems to help with some of mine.
I spent yesterday going through memories and IT sux! But I like the results. I am mostly through the difficult stuff I think.
So do you ever sign onto Yahoo? We have some nice chats there from time to time.
Pam
"We must be willing to let go of the life we had planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us"
Thanks Pam, Kelli and Kitti. I know that you all can relate to the subject matter at hand - all too well!
First chapter:
October, 2002:
H mentions to me that he has just hired a woman from Poland to work in his department. Nothing more.
November, 2002.
Extremely busy with taking care of "the folks". Noticing in the back of my mind all the while that H is coming home from work later than usual two to three nights a week. He has become uncharacteristically interested in socializing with co-workers.
I also sense a subtle shift in his attention.
December 2002:
H is going out after work nearly everynight now, coming home smelling of booze and no longer discussing his day with me nor any details about all his afterwork outings. Doesn't want to tell me the name of the places he's been going to or just claiming to 'not remember'. H seems to be 'going through the motions' here at home and passes through the holiday season like a shadow.
We are invited to a bonefire party by a married couple, who are our closest friends, and at the time working at the same lab as my H. Our MF approaches me while H is out of range, and with a look of grave concern, asks "So how are you holding up".
I look at him not knowing what he is referring to as he searches my face for something.
"I know it must be hard on you" he adds. I answer with a big smile, "I'm fine". Hmmm...
H and I go to a fancy xmas party given by his company and he manages to keep a friendly distance from me throughout much of the evening. Even the pictures that we got from that night show me warmly touching him as he just stood there looking cool and absent. I later learned that OW was there as well. Needless to say, those pictures are painful to look at now.
More later. H is uncomfortably close by at the moment.
I know we're strangers, but I wanted to say your poem is hauntingly beautiful. I keep these words on my desk: "Even from a dark night, songs of beauty can be born." And your words -- well, just you yourself courageously exploring this -- are proof of that, no?
I love your poem, sent riples of goosebumps up my arms. Today is my 1 yr. anniversary of the bomb . Of all days this is the one day my H is coming over!
Know that my thoughts are with you. Sometimes we need to purge ourselves of the ugliness that is deep within us.
Not sure I have enough room for them all. 
