I Never Said Goodbye
January is the cruelest month
despite it’s shimmer of hope
It’s when cancer took you
I was twenty-three
Hadn’t yet made amends
for the pain I caused you
Still drowning in my own
Your death only added
to the shame
of not measuring up
________________________________
This quadrille is doing double duty today. It includes the dVerse Poets Pub word prompt from Victoria and offers my thoughts on the cruelest month for the NaPoWriMo prompt.
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An open expression of the pain you must have felt. I lost my dad when I was 22. The unresolved becomes a huge part of the grief. As we grow older, we hopefully begin to measure ourselves according to our own expectations and morals. In a way, I’m sure that some of these have trickled down from our loved ones. From heaven, they look on. Hugs to you Linda.
Thanks.
A sad story. Those regrets for which we can’t make amends can be the hardest to bear.
Compelling piece. So much said in 44 words. Well done.
Oh wow, I love the last six lines. This is powerful.
This is incredibly powerful.
There is nothing as poignant as the shimmer of sadness, Linda. Full of emotion.
so much pain expressed in this – hope it helps you heal
Expressing the pain helps heal, I think…my heart aches for yours, reading this, Linda.
This is truly one of your best. It so resonates with me. The depth of feeling in this is amazing. Well done Linda.
The product of a weekend working on memoir and a lifetime of regret.
I am so very sorry. I have that regret regarding my father.
Linda, sad, but so beautiful! I want to share one of my poems with you with the hopes it will bring a smile to you. Sending blankets of spiritual love, hugs, and grace your way.
Butterflies
Whenever I see the butterflies flying
I am reminded of your smiling face,
As I see them taking wing into the sky
I feel emotions which are never displaced
For in my heart also live the butterflies
As they come to life within me each day
While I count the different memories of you
Which in my thoughts and dreams will stay
The brightness of their many vibrant colors
Produce a vivid rainbow deep within my mind
Which fills my heart with such unwavering joy
Allowing me to enjoy them for an endless time
The butterflies will be my deepest treasure
Leaving me never again feeling the same
As the peace they bring to me cannot be measured
For on their wings are imprinted your name
Wendell A. Brown,
That is beautiful! Thank you for sharing. With my mom, it’s bald eagles. She always loved bald eagles and when I see them I think of her, free from the pain of cancer.
So very sad. My sympathy to you. I chose January as my cruel month also, but for a different reason. You can read here if you like: http://leonaslines.com/2016/04/04/january/
This caused tears to well up in my eyes. Whew.
I’ll take that as a compliment.
I relate to this, when I lost my Mom. Thank you for sharing this deep, personal emotion
I’m sorry for your loss. Even though we know our parents will most likely die before us, and we wouldn’t want them to have to suffer losing their kids first, it’s still hard.
Raw, heart-breaking emotion. But she knows, you know.
Very cruel month to be left unable to clear the air between two people before it’s too late. But actually I believe it’s never too late to make peace with yourself.
True, and I’ve done that. But it still makes me sad that my mom died when I was still so young.
I understand…so very sorry, Linda.
This can be truly painful…thanks Linda ~
This is truly heartbreaking, Linda. Well penned.
Thanks.
Well done you on combining the two. I’m still working on my NaPoWriMo Prompt. For some reason I’m find today tricky.
You’ve done a great job though. So succinct and heartbreaking.
I love the quadrille because it is so succinct a form. I knew this was a topic I didn’t want to go on and on about, though I certainly could.
I know what you mean. My NaPoWriMo poems seem to be rambling out of control the last couple of days. The quadrille was great for drawing things back in.
So sad–that sense of losing someone without saying what needed to be said. But we know, he knows (I am assuming it is your brother)
Actually, it was my mother. She died of colon cancer at 61 and I wasn’t there. I miss her terribly.
Not sure that “like” is what I want to say. Just that that must be so awfully hard for you.
You know, writing about it does help though.
Oh you took me there… wonderful…