Straying from the normal posting path…

Today’s blog post is slightly different to the usual, but today is a difficult day in The Circus and this blog is supposed to be an unfiltered look at circus life. So please bear with me and normal service will be resumed soon.

Today my Mum should be celebrating her 62nd birthday but in my head she will never be a day older than the age at which we lost her nearly 11 years ago.

Grief is a very personal and individual emotion and there is no right or wrong way to deal with it, this is what has prompted me to post this today (believe me, by the time you read this, it will have been typed and deleted multiple times before I plucked up the courage to press Publish). I’m not one for sharing my emotions as those who know me will testament to, but if my words, however clumsily presented, can aid even one person in realising that whatever feelings they are experiencing are justified, valid and perfectly acceptable then I will consider it worthwhile.

Please, please share this with anyone who might need to hear it; anyone who’s ever felt pressured to put a time frame on their grief.

The Greatest Healer’s Flaw.

Some days exist to simply prove,
that time; it must go on.
Time doesn’t heal, it merely masks,
the scars are never gone.

When loved ones die, you lose a limb,
through metaphor at least.
Though lives and minds are straightened out,
your heart’s forever creased.

People watching from outside,
assume which days are worst,
but it’s not always the ‘special’ days,
that cause the tears to burst
.

Yes, it’s true that certain dates,
make staying strong quite hard,
birthday gifts you’d want to buy,
nowhere to send a card.

The day that marks each year of passing,
is known so you prepare,
you spend the day safely cocooned,
with those for who you care.

The days that prove that time won’t heal,
expand both far and wide.
The days you need that person’s ear,
to talk to, to confide.

When something lovely happens,
a thing you’d love to share,
the person you’d most love to tell….
…..simply isn’t there.

When you lose a parent,
quite early on in life,
before you become somebody’s Mum,
and someone else’s wife,
you also lose the wisdom,
advice to be passed down.
You lose a proud companion to choose a wedding gown.

It’s simple things, and silly things,
that really break your heart,
a memory not quite recalled,
will always miss a part,
there’s no one there to fill the gaps,
to make the thought complete.


Ends are always left untied,
death is never neat.

Grief; it has no ‘best before’.
No date of expiration.
It comes.
It goes.
It ebbs.
It flows.
Depending on occasion.

You learn to live your life again.
You learn to carry on.
BUT.
Time it does not heal wounds.
Those scars are never gone.

 

Sending love, empathy and support to anywhere it is needed

Rx

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