Tag Archives: loss

Threadbare

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Threadbare

[Written on December 10, 2013, this was posted to my first attempt at creating a blog.  It has a good message and I wanted to share it once again.  Image Credit]

Threadbare

“This, to me, represents love…” The letter was written to explain why they had to divorce. She shook her head in irritation. Her soon-to-be-ex-husband had no concept of love and staying strong through the hard times. She continued lost in thought when she almost tripped over the child curled up against the wall in the street.

Streaks of dirt only highlighted the deeper dirt that covered the child. His clothing was threadbare, the patches in the knees worn through. He didn’t meet her eyes. She saw many passed him by giving him no notice. But this was a child. All children deserved notice.

Kneeling down, she asked him, “Where are your parents?” He tilted his head as if uncertain what she said. He tugged at his ear and then she realized he was using a rudimentary sign language. She only drove into town to straighten out some legal matters. “Legal matters”…such a cold way to refer to the dissolution of a marriage. Still, she could not ignore this child. Decision made, she held out her hand.

The boy studied the hand with its neatly painted nails. He could not recall a clean hand offered his way. People on the streets would drag him along, making sure he made it to a shelter to get something to eat…most of the time. Sometimes, though, he hid amongst the trash, disappearing. She shook her hand with a little impatience. He saw her mouth move, knowing she was trying to tell him something. Finally, he slowly took her hand.

She hesitated at first before fully grasping the hand. She could feel the greasy grasp slide over her fingers. She fought against her instinct. She told herself, “It’s just dirt! It’s just dirt!” She pushed back the desire to put a handkerchief between their hands. Shaking away the physical discomfort, she continued walking down the sidewalk. The attorney wouldn’t be far and he could advise her about the child.

“Odd,” she thought. “My problem with dirt…with unclean things is what pushed my husband and me apart. Even…getting personal makes me physically ill. Yet, I am holding the hand of this dirty child.” She looked over at him as he squirmed a little and caught him scratching. “…this dirty, LICE RIDDEN child.” Reaching the entrance to the attorney, she turned towards him.

“I know you can’t understand me, but you need to trust me.” He stared at her uncomprehendingly, sniffing. Then he took his hand and dragged it across the offending nose. Fighting nausea, she shakily took that hand back into hers as they climbed the steps. “I can do this…I can do this…” she continued to chant as they opened the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Sanders. You’re a few minutes ear…” The receptionist cut her statement short. “Oh..oh…ummm…what’s this?”

“This is a who…and I’m not sure but we need to figure something out.” The boy stared out the window as rain began to fall. At least, he thought, I am dry for now.

Written in response to Finish That Thought. The prompt: This, to me, represents love.

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Some will never understand

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Some will never understand…

You picked up a rifle for a cause

Or laid it down to give a hand

A moment, a struggle, a pause

Yet, hesitate or not, you chose

To walk a path towards danger

Not always knowing who are foes

Touching the breadth of anger

And mercy’s width spreads wide

You stand tall through pain’s brand

Dried tears, your strength belied

Some will never understand…

BAGRAM, AFGHANISTAN - SEPTEMBER 11:  U.S. soldiers pray during the an anniversary ceremony of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001 on September 11, 2011 at Bagram Air Field, Afghanistan. Ten years after the 9/11 attacks in the United States and after almost a decade war in Afghanistan, American soldiers paid their respects in a solemn observence of the tragic day.  (Photo by John Moore/Getty Images)

BAGRAM, AFGHANISTAN – SEPTEMBER 11: U.S. soldiers pray during the an anniversary ceremony of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001 on September 11, 2011 at Bagram Air Field, Afghanistan. Ten years after the 9/11 attacks in the United States and after almost a decade war in Afghanistan, American soldiers paid their respects in a solemn observence of the tragic day. (Photo by John Moore/Getty Images)

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The loss of an unborn child…

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Pale-pink-climbing-rose

Many women go through this.  However, it often seems that the world does not understand.  They even want to strip away the humanity of that child in court.  Still, when a woman becomes pregnant, she becomes intimately involved with another human being in a unique way.  I know some make a choice to terminate that relationship.  This post is not about that choice.  I will not discuss the right and wrong with regard to that matter.  What I want to say is that for those who continue forward in this relationship, dreams start to form, plans begin to be made, and the heart gets tied into the matter.  Therefore, when that child is lost before she even gets to hear that cry, it leaves an emptiness.  It is my prayer that these women find solace, comfort, and support wherever they face their pain.

I wrote this poem for such a woman…and she faced her pain with grace and beauty.  This is very fitting as the little girl was to be named Grace.

 

“Mourning Dove” by Denise Callaway

 

A small bit of grace escaped heaven one day

But could only for a moment stay

To pull us together with strings of love

And let us have a glimpse of what is above

 

She danced in our hearts and dreams

A moment within the glance of moon beams

“Much loved” would be her name

Sadly still, her life’s flame

 

Angels lifted her to grace once more

Her moment spent, she will now soar

Held within the arms of love

We release our mourning dove

 

 

Written in memory of Aimee Grace

On the day of her birth and passing