Wednesday, October 10, 2012

You'll be in my heart



You'll be in my heart from this day on. Now, and forever more.

I got home form work tonight after a long day. All of them are long anymore. As I walked into the bedroom to change my clothes I saw you out of the corner of my eye and my heart all but stopped. The joy was instantaneous and amazing. I started to reach for you and realized that it wasn't you. That it won't ever be you again in this life.

The last time I held you was when you took your last breath. I felt your body go limp and your life leave as I held you in my arms. I cried out your name.

I couldn't help myself.

You lifted your face and looked at me as if to say "It's alright, everything is alright." Then you were gone.

I knew you were "alright". But my grief was, and is still to this day, a tangible, bitter thing. I loved you with all my heart. No, I love you with all my heart. Tears come easily when I think of you, and life, my life, goes on. But there is a huge hole within me and there is pain.

Pain isn't new to me, and I've been told that it's transient, that you can't really remember how much something hurts. Rather you remember that something hurt. And yet, when I am reminded of you, the pain comes flooding and tearing back. It's amazing how the grief and the pain rip apart any defenses I've managed to build. The memories are as sharp as taking off a fresh layer of skin. Not necessarily enough to bleed, but all the nerves are fresh and quickened, exposed and brilliant with feeling.

Some day we will be together again. You and me and others who have passed too soon. When that time comes, I know that there will be tears. I know that the joy will be as heart-rending as the pain I feel now. What a joyous reunion. And some days it can't come too soon.

For tonight, I will say that I love you as much as ever, that I miss you and will start once again to seek relief from the grief and pain I feel. 

Know this Isabelle, Isa, know that you are, and always will be, in my heart. 

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Enough: adjective. 1. adequate for the want or need; sufficient for the purpose

Go Rest High On That Mountain - Vince Gill

I know your life on earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the Devil
You were no stranger to the rain

Go rest high on that mountain
Son your work on earth is done
Go to Heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and the Son


Pretty rough couple of months. Nobody's fault but my own. I guess I get it, and I don't have to like it.

Which is really pretty good because I don't. Like it, that is.

Another thing I don't like is that I'm struggling to escape it.  I'm not sure that I can. I'd like to think I can and I'd like to think I have the strength needed to break free. Mentally or physically, I really wish I could reach terminal velocity and clear the gravity of whatever the hell has me in its grasp.

Each day I think I'm failing much better than the last.

Some days I think I'm ready to "go rest high" myself, to go find that mountain.

Some days I've had enough.