I need to write and just don't know where to start. There is no clearer way to understand where my head is than to write it down and read it and try to fix it...often times there is no fix, but that's okay too mostly. I have this fantastic support system that has grown by at least one for sure lately...and she's fabulous even if she doesn't realize it. Trying to scare me off...crazy woman - I'm not easily scared...YEAH NATASHA - looking at you! :)
The quarter is over...I'm about 90% (hah) sure that I actually pulled off straight A's. Which for me is a feat because I am not very in to homework...and there was a LOT from one guy. The other teacher was awesome...although they both forced journaling on us and frankly that wasn't very natural for me. I don't like being TOLD to journal. I do it very occasionally on my blog at my own leisure. If it's forced it sounds and feels forced, but what can ya do? Thankfully the worst is kind of over. I've met some good people, some great ones, and some truly awesome ones. I am grateful to have met each and every one of them. One person in particular...and those of you close to me that I will make sure see this probably know who...that was a professor has taken the time for me. I guess what strikes me most about this person is her (shocker I bonded with another woman who is older than me...I'm sure everyone is so surprised - haha) -- anyway - the thing that strikes me most is the absolute down to earth way she carries herself and the complete compassion that SHINES in her face. I don't trust people with my deep stuff much because I have learned that people feed off the knowing something others don't. They feed off of it and they use it to their advantage. Not all people, but a lot do...especially people my age. Gossip is dangerous. I trust this person and feel "safe" which feels weird for me...I think it maybe feels weird for her that I'm so giddy that she didn't just pull the "hey you were a fun student - good luck - have a nice life - buh bye". She could have and didn't and that makes me happy. She's unknowingly funny. She's already been a hand holder...for HOURS...she told me to "be safe" when I went out. I can't say that I remember the last time someone said that to me. (sorry mom I'm sure you have, but you're mom and I don't listen to you any more than you listen to me) I'll definitely miss laughing with her Mondays -- she made my quarter...there were a couple of people who helped but she truly made it. Another one of the people in my life for whom I would do absolutely anything, that I truly worry about, and that I want to remind all the time how grateful I am and how much they rock. She offered herself as a support without knowing much about me at all...So I think I can safely add her to the list of people to talk to when I'm having a freak out. Except tonight because I feel like everyone is all tapped out with my semi-self-induced drama. I'm tapped out with my own emotional garbage for cryin out loud. It's Christmas. I used to LOVE Christmas. Kate made Christmas a HUGE deal. The house was decked out. It was such a happy time. And now it's just hard. I miss her all of the time. I don't want to, but I do. I'm not sure if I'm just feeling sorry for myself or if it's just the wanting that connection again. I'm so fortunate to have people with whom I am so deeply connected. I'm fortunate that I have people that are so invested in me that they will stay up on facebook with me til all hours, take me to lunch to hash out my stuff, and just hang with me when I need a distraction. I have so many people that make me laugh, but I have only a handful that actually calm me. I feel more grounded and less uptight around them (unless in one particular case they are forcing me into the circle of death - cough, cough). I can see them all in my head. These days unless I am around one of those people or somehow in communication with one of them I feel anxious. It's weird and definitely not me. But the talking and texting and facebooking makes me feel sane. Another thing to be thankful for...temporary sanity! On top of the "Kate stuff" I've had a few other major stresses. I would like for the people directly linked to this to know - they are mostly all solved. Maybe there just isn't enough stress to focus on and now I'm falling back into the weird place. I don't know. I don't care. I want something that isn't going to happen. The Kate stuff will never fall away and it will never not hurt...SUCK...but real. I just have to keep reminding myself to breathe and that I have so many people to help me and to be grateful that they are willing to listen to me. For that I am eternally grateful. Breathe, be grateful, I am loved, it's all good ;)...
XO, J
Showing posts with label Kate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kate. Show all posts
December 19, 2010
August 9, 2010
one with some words and feelings and shit....
Inoperable brain tumor...the words flow through my mind. She died 6 years, 2 months, 10 days ago...that is if my math is correct. I was 20. I was just a baby by most adult standards. Just a fledgling wanna be adult waiting to set the world on it's ear. She was smart and beautiful and funny. She loved me. Our relationship was a complicated one. She was my mother's girlfriend. She was my other mom. She was the mommy that would hold me when I cried. She was the one who would sit up on those long nights with the fevers and vomit. She didn't complain about taking on another kid. She did it gracefully. There was a definite difference in how she treated me and how she treated her biological son. He was spoiled and mean. She herself used to refer to him in some pretty un-motherly terms. He treated her like shit. She didn't deserve that, but she would appease him just to keep the peace. It wasn't worth fighting...he was too far gone. With me she would fight tooth and nail until I understood exactly why things needed to be the way she said. She wanted something more for me. Maybe she saw more potential. I will never know. What I do know is that she came to almost everything from the time I was 11. She was at every play, every concert, almost every rodeo...Every parade, every doctor appointment, most orthodontic appointments. She was there for birthday's and Christmas, Easter and 4th of July. She was there for the first dates, the must have clothes, the need to fit in and be cool. She heard about my first period, my first kiss, and what really happened when my brother kept me out too late at my dad's house. She was my compass and the best friend a girl could want. She made sure I was surrounded by strong women, lots of new ideas, and big words. I can't imagine what I would have been without her. I remember driving with her, shopping with her, swimming with her. She was so present in my life...until she wasn't. An "inoperable brain tumor"...what a crock of shit. Now what? How does a kid move on from that? The only person that never left even when they left...and what the fuck anyway? I'd just lost my gramps the year before who was followed swiftly by her sister...this wasn't fair. I had just seen her in August...She'd come home to clean out a storage unit. She'd made sure that she spent an entire day with just me. She had just talked to me in February. Had just emailed in April. It was the end of May. A month of frantically trying to get a hold of her and that phone call came. It was her number, I think, but it was him. Kevin Dean...the guy with 2 first names that took her away. It was her choice and wasn't his fault but the background makes him kind of an ass...He told me "Kate's gone". Mom was there when I lost my cool. I remember crying and not being able to talk and her needing to know what could possibly cause me to react that way. She was devastated too. They say misery loves company but I would do anything for her not to have to feel this way too. I never got the entire story. I tried to via email but he wanted a phone call. I wouldn't call, nope, COULDN'T call. I couldn't have a stranger tell me what happened to my mommy. It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have had to be that way. Years went by and I never knew the entire story. 5 years in fact. And even then I had to search for someone to tell it. I found Martha. She was like an answered prayer. She told me what happened...and the sting that Kate had died here right downtown...right where I could have been there...It all led to more questions and less answers. It's helped some with the closure, but I'm afraid I will always be just a little bit broken. I'll always have that void that no one could possibly fill...where I keep her tucked in and safe. Right where no one can see her and no one can really see me. The feelings, the hole, the wall...they're indescribable and even if they were no one could understand. Her, the hole and the words "inoperable brain tumor"...always there...always waiting.
November 10, 2009
anger, heart break, frustration...the one with too much emotion and too much about my past...very personal...and very "schmoopy"
very long post...very personal...much recounting of my life. Skip this if you expect it to in any way be funny or even make sense...it's VERY VERY LONG...
I'm an over thinker. If I know anything about myself, this is definitely it. So I've been thinking...What is a truly broken heart? Do we ever get over a significant loss? Does the heart ever really truly heal? Or is like Stephanie Meyer says in her "New Moon" book...that we essentially just get better at dealing with the pain. I never thought a book about teenage vampires would ever have anything to say that would truly make sense, but dealing with my newest round of grief over something that happened more than 5 years ago, her words suddenly become actually relevant to my life. I find it odd, hilarious, and a more than a bit pathetic that I would admit a fluffy book like that would relate to me, but nonetheless the book is irrelevant, the words are not.
A Comprehensive break down of my life...this is going to be long...feel free to skip this post
15 years ago:
Mom comes out and starts dating one of the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Her name is Kate and she becomes my new mommy...My mom was always my mom, but she was MY momma Kate. I was the daughter of her heart and soul. We both knew that what was happening was inescapable, beautiful, and exciting. I finally had a mom with whom I could relate. That isn't said to diminish my relationship with my biological mother, we are very close and she is absolutely wonderful, but this was different and extraordinary.
until 10 years ago:
Kate and I remain joint at the hip. She's moved in with us. She's taught me to cook, she's taught me about defining my own spirituality without relying on a religion, she's taught me that people want to do better with their second child than they did with their first (and boy did she), she's introduced me to all kinds of new and wonderful people. Until she left when I was 16 we were inseparable. I was a child living in an adult world...and I felt like I was right where I belonged.
almost 10 years ago:
Kate leaves us for him. Mom and I are hurt and pissed. She and I are still so close that it's hard for my to imagine my life without seeing her everyday. We talk everyday until she moves to the Virgin Islands when I'm 17.
9 years ago:
My life changes. She's gone, but we still talk daily, until it's only every couple of days. I don't see her physically any more, but she tries her best to ease that pain. She knows all too well what I'm feeling. Then again she always has...she's the one person who can read me like an open book.
6 years, 2 or 3 months:
She's home for a couple of weeks, he's with her. She kicks him out of their timeshare condo in Red Lodge, Montana so that we can have some uninterrupted mother/daughter time. Kiss that buddy...What a selfish kid...but she knew I still wasn't ready to face him. I still wanted my parents back together. My dad had my other mom, Kathleen, for which I am grateful...my life would be so different if Kathleen weren't here - and not in a good way...she's been so good to me...but my 2 moms were still separate now. It will never fail to amaze me how kids hang on to the thought of their parents being together again after a divorce. I loved Kathleen so I never wanted mom and dad back together, of that I was sure. But the battle between mom and Kate proved to be the one that put me in the category of "other kids" - the one I had never imagined being a part of myself.
6 years ago:
She's sick. She's having seizures. She has me convinced it's nothing, she'll be okay. I always believed everything she said. She could have told me the sky was yellow and I would have believed her...I truly think everything will be fine.
btwn 5 and 6 years ago:
I know something is wrong, but I don't know what. The phone calls are less frequent, she's feeling less up to talking, she's not e-mailing me back. This is not her. This is not MY Kate. My Kate would find a way to talk to me. Something is very very wrong, I'm worried, and I'm frantically trying to reach her. I can feel that she needs me and I can't be there. I'm scared for her....
5 years, 5 months, 1 1/2 weeks (essentially),
I get a phone call that shatters my world. I'm only 20 years old and I have lost one of the few people I am fully not ready to loose. I get the call. The call. His call. Him. The man I blamed for so long for a decision SHE made. He took my mom away from me. I can't help but be resentful even if it's wrong. My head knows it was her decision, my heart needs someone else to blame. He tells me she died. What!? How could this happen? I'm too young. She was too young. 52 years, almost 4 months. Literally days shy of the 52 years, 4 months. I'm in my old bedroom that is now mom's office. She's at her computer working, I'm in the recliner jabbering away about some nonsense as usual. The desk faces the windows, recliner faces the desk. The bathroom to my back and right, the bathroom she designed with the walk in closet I loved. The walls are a different color than when I was a kid...3 pink, 1 deep maroon purple. Shelley's idea...yuck. I get the call. I lose it. I lose it badly enough that mom looks at me like I've had a mental break. I can hear him talking vaguely. I can hear him tell me she's dead. It was a brain tumor. I'm sorry sweetheart....I'm sobbing by now...uncontrollable, heart wrenching sobs, sounds I don't remember ever making. Mom is watching me, concern on her face. I hear him ask, "Is there anything I can do for you?" I manage to say, "no"...and somehow, though I can't remember now, the call ends. That's it. She's gone. No answers, nothing. I tell mom. Mom's losing it. We're both overcome. Shelley walks in, I look at mom with desperation in my eyes that says "get Shelley out...I can't deal with her, please just make her leave". Mom sends her away. We both cry. Words must have been said. I can't remember any of it. It's like people always say "a haze". My world has just come crashing down. It was only 1 year, 3 months almost to the day that I lost my grandfather. I was only 19 when he died, now at only 20 one of the other most important people I have ever known is gone. 2 gone in a little over a year.
That same day I have promised my family to be at a Memorial Weekend BBQ at the river. I've told only 3 people about it...Sandy, Kara, and my mom. Sandy and Kara reach out to me. I think they both went to the BBQ with me for moral support. Not a word is said about what has transpired. They know better. I don't want them, I don't want anyone, I want my momma Kate. I want her and only her. The same person I always want when my heart is broken.
I try to e-mail him about her. He won't tell me anything through the e-mail. He wants me to call...I can't call. I'm not strong enough. I'm not ready. We lose touch. He moves on. I don't.
And so the years pass...
6 months (ish) ago:
I find him on facebook. He leads me to Martha. Thank you Kate, thank you God, thank you Martha. I find some answers and start the grieving process all over.
Present:
I don't know if knowing more has helped or made it worse. All I know is that my life feels broken still. 5 years later. 5 fucking years...when does it stop hurting like hell? When does my heart quit feeling broken? When does it quit feeling like there is a piece of my soul missing? I think I know more than I should about losing a parent at a young age. It's too hard for anyone to understand how much I relied on her...how much she truly was my mommy. How much only she understood about me. No one has ever known me as well as she did. I worry no one will. I worry no one will understand how much she means to me and how much it hurts to be without her. I have had friends who have lost a parent. They think that what I feel isn't the same. I won't say they are wrong. I also won't say that they are right. I can't begin to know what they feel, but the feeling of emptiness that they feel when they think of that parent...that loving, devoted, caring, compassionate person...that I know. The yearning to see that person, the need to just have them tell you everything is okay is all too familiar.
There are so many unanswered questions. So many resentments toward him, toward her brother, toward her son. Her asshole son was there...the daughter of her heart and soul was not. Fair? I think not. She didn't even LIKE her son...let alone her brother. I can't wrap my mind around his grief...I can't imagine why he would tell her son and her brother and not me. I can only speculate. Was it because he resented me? Was it because he knew how much she and my mom still meant to each other? Was it just that he wasn't thinking? He called me within a day so how could he not know...How could her own son not care enough to write an obituary? Why did he let her brother in on even the minutest details? The why's go on forever. I will likely never speak to him. I honestly don't know if I care to, to be honest. I'm not sure I could deal with him even to this day. I'm angry and I know to my core it doesn't help things. I know in my soul that not liking him, her brother, her son, the situation, the way it was handled, the way I let him overlook me, any of it, I know that it doesn't help. I know that it only hurts me. Yet, somehow, I can not overlook it.
I am like her in so many ways that I can not even begin to explain. The BFF sees it, mom sees it, anyone who saw us together sees it, saw it, or at the very least starts to see it eventually. If you look close she's in there...inside of me. In my heart, my soul, my mind, my spirit. She has shaped me into this person. The one with the freak outs over weird things, the sometimes obsessive behavior, the love of the unconventional, the love of the spiritual, the cook, the person who makes her own family, that girl that has so much passion sometimes that it seems insane. That person who loves cats, laughs at things inside her head, gives her mom shit like it's nobody's business and gets away with it when no one else can, that person that is unorganized as hell and can't find shit. That girl that loves Christmas, craft shows, music, and good movies. The girl that has learned to see beyond what is and see what may be, what can be, or what someone is not saying. The opinionated advice giving lecturing mom type. That sweet child that was always referred to as an old soul...she knew that person better than anyone because she helped create her. That girl is me. The real me. The me that sometimes feels very alone and very lost without her. The me that wonders...Do we ever truly get over this kind of soul deep loss? If this is not a broken heart what is? How do I move past this? And how do I learn to keep my heart open enough to not miss out on all the things life has to offer? She would want me to keep an open heart...she would want me to laugh, love, live, be happy. Yet, in times like today, I still struggle to see past the loss to what is to come. But I will be okay...because my parents...the collective whole of them...have taught me that I can survive anything. And because I have the greatest support system in the best people anyone could ever have.
I'm an over thinker. If I know anything about myself, this is definitely it. So I've been thinking...What is a truly broken heart? Do we ever get over a significant loss? Does the heart ever really truly heal? Or is like Stephanie Meyer says in her "New Moon" book...that we essentially just get better at dealing with the pain. I never thought a book about teenage vampires would ever have anything to say that would truly make sense, but dealing with my newest round of grief over something that happened more than 5 years ago, her words suddenly become actually relevant to my life. I find it odd, hilarious, and a more than a bit pathetic that I would admit a fluffy book like that would relate to me, but nonetheless the book is irrelevant, the words are not.
A Comprehensive break down of my life...this is going to be long...feel free to skip this post
15 years ago:
Mom comes out and starts dating one of the most wonderful people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Her name is Kate and she becomes my new mommy...My mom was always my mom, but she was MY momma Kate. I was the daughter of her heart and soul. We both knew that what was happening was inescapable, beautiful, and exciting. I finally had a mom with whom I could relate. That isn't said to diminish my relationship with my biological mother, we are very close and she is absolutely wonderful, but this was different and extraordinary.
until 10 years ago:
Kate and I remain joint at the hip. She's moved in with us. She's taught me to cook, she's taught me about defining my own spirituality without relying on a religion, she's taught me that people want to do better with their second child than they did with their first (and boy did she), she's introduced me to all kinds of new and wonderful people. Until she left when I was 16 we were inseparable. I was a child living in an adult world...and I felt like I was right where I belonged.
almost 10 years ago:
Kate leaves us for him. Mom and I are hurt and pissed. She and I are still so close that it's hard for my to imagine my life without seeing her everyday. We talk everyday until she moves to the Virgin Islands when I'm 17.
9 years ago:
My life changes. She's gone, but we still talk daily, until it's only every couple of days. I don't see her physically any more, but she tries her best to ease that pain. She knows all too well what I'm feeling. Then again she always has...she's the one person who can read me like an open book.
6 years, 2 or 3 months:
She's home for a couple of weeks, he's with her. She kicks him out of their timeshare condo in Red Lodge, Montana so that we can have some uninterrupted mother/daughter time. Kiss that buddy...What a selfish kid...but she knew I still wasn't ready to face him. I still wanted my parents back together. My dad had my other mom, Kathleen, for which I am grateful...my life would be so different if Kathleen weren't here - and not in a good way...she's been so good to me...but my 2 moms were still separate now. It will never fail to amaze me how kids hang on to the thought of their parents being together again after a divorce. I loved Kathleen so I never wanted mom and dad back together, of that I was sure. But the battle between mom and Kate proved to be the one that put me in the category of "other kids" - the one I had never imagined being a part of myself.
6 years ago:
She's sick. She's having seizures. She has me convinced it's nothing, she'll be okay. I always believed everything she said. She could have told me the sky was yellow and I would have believed her...I truly think everything will be fine.
btwn 5 and 6 years ago:
I know something is wrong, but I don't know what. The phone calls are less frequent, she's feeling less up to talking, she's not e-mailing me back. This is not her. This is not MY Kate. My Kate would find a way to talk to me. Something is very very wrong, I'm worried, and I'm frantically trying to reach her. I can feel that she needs me and I can't be there. I'm scared for her....
5 years, 5 months, 1 1/2 weeks (essentially),
I get a phone call that shatters my world. I'm only 20 years old and I have lost one of the few people I am fully not ready to loose. I get the call. The call. His call. Him. The man I blamed for so long for a decision SHE made. He took my mom away from me. I can't help but be resentful even if it's wrong. My head knows it was her decision, my heart needs someone else to blame. He tells me she died. What!? How could this happen? I'm too young. She was too young. 52 years, almost 4 months. Literally days shy of the 52 years, 4 months. I'm in my old bedroom that is now mom's office. She's at her computer working, I'm in the recliner jabbering away about some nonsense as usual. The desk faces the windows, recliner faces the desk. The bathroom to my back and right, the bathroom she designed with the walk in closet I loved. The walls are a different color than when I was a kid...3 pink, 1 deep maroon purple. Shelley's idea...yuck. I get the call. I lose it. I lose it badly enough that mom looks at me like I've had a mental break. I can hear him talking vaguely. I can hear him tell me she's dead. It was a brain tumor. I'm sorry sweetheart....I'm sobbing by now...uncontrollable, heart wrenching sobs, sounds I don't remember ever making. Mom is watching me, concern on her face. I hear him ask, "Is there anything I can do for you?" I manage to say, "no"...and somehow, though I can't remember now, the call ends. That's it. She's gone. No answers, nothing. I tell mom. Mom's losing it. We're both overcome. Shelley walks in, I look at mom with desperation in my eyes that says "get Shelley out...I can't deal with her, please just make her leave". Mom sends her away. We both cry. Words must have been said. I can't remember any of it. It's like people always say "a haze". My world has just come crashing down. It was only 1 year, 3 months almost to the day that I lost my grandfather. I was only 19 when he died, now at only 20 one of the other most important people I have ever known is gone. 2 gone in a little over a year.
That same day I have promised my family to be at a Memorial Weekend BBQ at the river. I've told only 3 people about it...Sandy, Kara, and my mom. Sandy and Kara reach out to me. I think they both went to the BBQ with me for moral support. Not a word is said about what has transpired. They know better. I don't want them, I don't want anyone, I want my momma Kate. I want her and only her. The same person I always want when my heart is broken.
I try to e-mail him about her. He won't tell me anything through the e-mail. He wants me to call...I can't call. I'm not strong enough. I'm not ready. We lose touch. He moves on. I don't.
And so the years pass...
6 months (ish) ago:
I find him on facebook. He leads me to Martha. Thank you Kate, thank you God, thank you Martha. I find some answers and start the grieving process all over.
Present:
I don't know if knowing more has helped or made it worse. All I know is that my life feels broken still. 5 years later. 5 fucking years...when does it stop hurting like hell? When does my heart quit feeling broken? When does it quit feeling like there is a piece of my soul missing? I think I know more than I should about losing a parent at a young age. It's too hard for anyone to understand how much I relied on her...how much she truly was my mommy. How much only she understood about me. No one has ever known me as well as she did. I worry no one will. I worry no one will understand how much she means to me and how much it hurts to be without her. I have had friends who have lost a parent. They think that what I feel isn't the same. I won't say they are wrong. I also won't say that they are right. I can't begin to know what they feel, but the feeling of emptiness that they feel when they think of that parent...that loving, devoted, caring, compassionate person...that I know. The yearning to see that person, the need to just have them tell you everything is okay is all too familiar.
There are so many unanswered questions. So many resentments toward him, toward her brother, toward her son. Her asshole son was there...the daughter of her heart and soul was not. Fair? I think not. She didn't even LIKE her son...let alone her brother. I can't wrap my mind around his grief...I can't imagine why he would tell her son and her brother and not me. I can only speculate. Was it because he resented me? Was it because he knew how much she and my mom still meant to each other? Was it just that he wasn't thinking? He called me within a day so how could he not know...How could her own son not care enough to write an obituary? Why did he let her brother in on even the minutest details? The why's go on forever. I will likely never speak to him. I honestly don't know if I care to, to be honest. I'm not sure I could deal with him even to this day. I'm angry and I know to my core it doesn't help things. I know in my soul that not liking him, her brother, her son, the situation, the way it was handled, the way I let him overlook me, any of it, I know that it doesn't help. I know that it only hurts me. Yet, somehow, I can not overlook it.
I am like her in so many ways that I can not even begin to explain. The BFF sees it, mom sees it, anyone who saw us together sees it, saw it, or at the very least starts to see it eventually. If you look close she's in there...inside of me. In my heart, my soul, my mind, my spirit. She has shaped me into this person. The one with the freak outs over weird things, the sometimes obsessive behavior, the love of the unconventional, the love of the spiritual, the cook, the person who makes her own family, that girl that has so much passion sometimes that it seems insane. That person who loves cats, laughs at things inside her head, gives her mom shit like it's nobody's business and gets away with it when no one else can, that person that is unorganized as hell and can't find shit. That girl that loves Christmas, craft shows, music, and good movies. The girl that has learned to see beyond what is and see what may be, what can be, or what someone is not saying. The opinionated advice giving lecturing mom type. That sweet child that was always referred to as an old soul...she knew that person better than anyone because she helped create her. That girl is me. The real me. The me that sometimes feels very alone and very lost without her. The me that wonders...Do we ever truly get over this kind of soul deep loss? If this is not a broken heart what is? How do I move past this? And how do I learn to keep my heart open enough to not miss out on all the things life has to offer? She would want me to keep an open heart...she would want me to laugh, love, live, be happy. Yet, in times like today, I still struggle to see past the loss to what is to come. But I will be okay...because my parents...the collective whole of them...have taught me that I can survive anything. And because I have the greatest support system in the best people anyone could ever have.
April 18, 2009
Return to Life by Miguel Angel Ruiz
This a poem that Kate once gave to me. It took on new meaning when I was finally able to "talk" to her best friend and find out the entire story behind her (Kate) death. I will miss you eternally Mama Kate, but I am grateful for the kindness of your friend(s). Thank you for picking such special people to share with me. I will miss you every day of my life, but at least now I can mend the hole...
I waken
and nothing is the same.
For the first time,
I open my eyes,
These eyes of mine
I long believed could see
and find that all I knew as true
was nothing but a false dream.
Then, like a radiant star,
The Angel of Death,
The Angel of Life became
And transformed my dream
From a dream of fear,
To a joyful comedy.
So surprised, I ask the Angel,
"Am I dead?"
She replies,
"Yes, for these many years, though your heart beat on,
Your mind slept in the grave illusion
Unconscious of you Divinity.:
"Now, with heart beating,
And body breathing,
Your mind has wakened from hell,
Renewed, your eyes
Admire the beauty awaiting you."
"Your divine awareness awakens
All the love in your being.
Hating and fearing forsaken,
Gone are the guilt and the blame.
Your soul forgives,
Your Divinity Lives."
My eyes, in fascination
Stare at the Angel
Sensing the truth waking in me.
I surrender, willingly,
Without condition.
Humbly receiving
Death and Life,
To Hell, I release all claim
And with new eyes,
See my eternal love...leaving
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