booksartyoume

Today she died' ** timothy r g, 2/10/2008

she no longer cries,
or dies,
asleep she reclines,
last words,
'i love you,'
to my son and daughter,
her son and daughter,
loved by us both,
us never the issue: they, the issue.
my son's tears, I know,
I recall him at four, weeping,
not understanding why daddy wouldn't live with him anymore;
his sister, too little at the time to know this by words,
she felt it, and she feels;
love never ceases
only liars pretend that it does,
unwilling to suffer the confusion of self-delusion.
why not,
i just don't get it?
i don't.
that bottle in heaven,
yes, we've filled that together,
our son and daughter are filling theirs, today.
my lover, my friend, my wife, my 'ex'
became my children's mother,
and i the vacation director every other weekend.
she died, today;
this day she simply sleeps,
and they pray, somehow,
'let this smile and laughter be in the room
when we come for Christmas next year,'
admiration and frustration
fulfilled in our mother's holiday.
'incline thine ear,' I hear their prays.
today i know the loss, like from my son's fourth birthday;
difference,
he keeps coming back.
my princess,
my little buddy,
today,
know the sorrow of love's repose.
the joy of a cessation of a beloved's kiss.
the happiness is quieted.
yes, we truly loved each other;
it changed, but the gift was not thrown out.
My son, my daughter
her son, her daughter,
our son, our daughter
today,
weep with me,
their mother only a twinkle,
more than,
once in my eye.
Today we've filled three bottles.
This week,
we'll fill more.
'lord have mercy, kyrie eleison (Greek)
yahweh have mercy, adon rakhem nah (Hebrew)
ya rabb urrham (Arabic)
a thighearna, dean trocair oirnn (Gaelic)
gospodi pomiluim (Slavonic-Russian Liturgical),
...........
will fill the air with these,
not knowing what else is noteworthy.
Tears should be dried up.
They're not.
One day my son, my daughter,
her son, her daughter,
our children will know;
we still weep together.
I smile too.
I'll save this to tell them on another day.
'to everything there is a season,'
today, i wish that it was summer.


**Today my first wife, the mother of my two eldest children died. she's done with the suffering of this life. this is good. strange it is, when you hear and see your beloved children weep, hurting like hell because their mother, their mommy, is dead. all you remember is just how lovely she was the first day you noticed her, the myriad of times and ways your enjoyed each other's embrace, the mornings that you were ready in plenty of time for a slow drive to work, but instead that extra kiss, and more, often necessitated a swift run into the office, and how i so loved the linger of her amorous frame in my beard, and that she made me smile more than she ever made me cry, and that when I did cry at the repose of my beloved Grandfather - i did not need to hurt alone. Today, her gift to our children is that i remember this, and am free to remind them that love never dies. It may change, but the reason people hurt so much no matter what changes a relationship is because it is love that has been harmed, not ego, but love. Ego is what gets in the way of what never knows cessation. Love and our collective energy lives. Today, this is the gift of the moment. I share, gratefully their mother's love and mine for our grieving children. As 'my guitar gently weeps,' so do we, knowing that somehow these tears are also for their cleansing. Perhaps my children, her children, our children will know the gift that my Grandfather and Brother have given me with their mother. Every day I am visited in my mind's eye with their love. This gives me what I know my children will learn, what I like to call 'happy tears,' blessed are those that love, for they never die to love.