(me, 4 years old)
Yes, wee one,
still alive and well,
and watching from
inside my heart . . .
She's gone.
And I *know*
it scratches at
some tender,
broken places.
(How on earth could it not?)
But this time?
It's different.
I know, my love.
It's hard to believe,
when the feelings
and the memories
are so present.
Big, yet *almost*
imperceptible.
But it really is
. . . true . . .
I, the woman,
Debbie Grace
am here now,
. . too . .
You are no longer
. . . alone . . .
That precious child,
. . abandoned . .
by her beloved Moma
at a time when you
so desperately needed her.
It *was* devastating,
no doubt about that.
But that all happened
a lifetime ago.
(dropping to a whisper)
It's over now, my sweet.
So cry the tears,
bottled up for years,
aching, *needing* to be shed.
This is how healing spreads.
And when you are ready,
as best you can,
come back
. . (((home))) . .
to *this* moment.
Intentionally take the time
to look around and see.
Nesting in the safety of the
warm, encircling sea.
I am here
Mama Grace is here
Auntie Mercy is here
And, lookie right over there ...
Sisters, Enough and Hope,
are keeping watch, too
Gently wrap yourself
in our tender care,
watching as each one
joins her love with
that of all of the other
so-honored-to-be-yours mothers.
Moma, who can
now love you as
she yearns towards you
from her perch in heaven.
All of your grandmothers . . .
by blood,
by marriage
and by heart.
Trust that we all
love you very much.
Raise your weeping eyes
and look to us,
listening and receiving
our crucial words of
blessed affirmation.
As I gently
cup your face,
close your eyes
and lean in,
trusting each one's hand
covers mine
as we
. . . . . all . . . . .
send love and healing
to those deepest,
aching scars.
You're ok, Little One.
And this wave of grief?
It will pass.
Just like all of the others have.
I promise.
All my love,
Debbie Grace
who is still trustin' in Mama Grace, Auntie Mercy, Enough, and now Hope
. * .
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for stopping by and for letting me know you were here . . . :)