Thursday, October 28, 2010

Que Sera Sera

There is a grief too deep to share

A mourning for things not yet lost

There is no understanding for those who have not lived it

There are good intentions, good wishes, good prayers but no knowledge of the searing pain that rips a mother’s heart with thoughts of memories that will not be made

Reluctance to share your fear
        “be positive”
                “speak life
                        “you have no faith” 
Are the accusations your heart throws in your face while
        “this will never change”
                “how will I cope”
                        “WILL I cope?”
Rage through your over-tired mind

My heart aches from doubt and weariness

My eyes burn from tears
        Too many unshed
                Too many shed

Why me, why her, why us?  Why not?

My back aches from carrying a body almost as long as my own, from being kicked, from being hit, from carrying the hurt

My heart hurts from the constant flow of words
        “shut up”
                “go away”
                        “NO”
From a mouth and heart that know no better

I am oh so very weary
        Weary of worry
                Weary of pretending not to worry
                        Weary of smiling and laughing while my                           heart breaks
Weary of carrying the burdens of others when my own are already too heavy to bear
Weary of judging those who don’t understand, who don’t know and are happy not to
Weary of the life I’ve been handed

How can I be so weary of all that but still not wish to give it up?  Would I wish my girl away?  NEVER!  Only well and whole and complete and healed!



There is an aloneness, a difference that keeps you separate from those around you.  Even those who would like to think they are your support and comfort.  They are not.  They are those who get to live normal lives with normal children who have all manner of idiosyncrasies that THEY will grow out of.  They do not ever wonder,

        “will my child ever learn to read?”
                “will my child ever graduate high school?”
                        “will my child ever have a job?”
        “will my child ever marry and have a family?”
                “will my child mature past the age of four?”
                        “will my child live past their next birthday?”

Instead, they worry about them leaving home and starting their new adult lives.
        “will she ever be able to live on her own?”

They worry about them being afraid in the night.
        “will she ever be able to sleep without us worrying whether she will wake again?”

They worry about them having separation anxiety
        “does she even care that I’m leaving her”

To worry is senseless.  In the words of the old song …
Que sera sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

2 comments:

Dawsyn's Mom said...

This is not new. I wrote it a very long time ago during a "low patch". Sometimes I have to sit on the darker ones for a very long time before I feel I can post them ... if ever.

Zoe said...

WOW!! Once again I'm left with nothing that can possibly be said that can be of use or value???? Thank you for sharing....gives us even more insight. You really do have a talent for writing :)