Simple, but Priceless


Warm and humid. Rain each day. A day to stay inside and sort items. I already showed you some photos I found of Al and me when we were younger. I look at those photos and ask myself, where did the time go? Did I really used to be that much smaller?

I have 2 weeks before I move and for this reason I am not busting ___ to get things packed. I box up, take a break, and then go back to it. It has been difficult going through things. A lot of it has been packed up ever since I left Warsaw.

People tell me that certain places, roads, smells and what-have-yous, are part of the memories of loved ones that have passed on to the pearly gates of heaven. I believe this to be true. It can be the most simple, innocent thing, and boom; your heart is breaking all over again.

I found Al’s memorials from his funeral today. I found the guest book that each had signed as they entered the funeral. I discovered a medium-sized box on the shelf in the spare bedroom closet. I hadn’t opened it since I moved here 8 months ago.

I pulled it down and opened it up. My heart pinched as I looked in the box. There was Al’s favorite, small Bel-Aire cars. My heart squeezed a little tighter when I next saw his favorite Indiana hat he wore up until he was bed bound.

I guess my heart just couldn’t take it as I pulled out the next item. I touched it gently. I sat on the floor and cried once again for what I have lost. I was remembering back to the sound it put off. It was Al’s way of communicating before he could move no more body parts. It means nothing to anyone else.

In fact, some may toss it away, or give it away. For me, I will carry it in my presence forever. Maybe I will even be buried with it by my side to show Al I am coming to be with him.

You ask what this simple, non-important thing is? Nothing more than an old bike horn. Yes, this was how Al let me know when ever he needed or wanted something. What I wouldn’t give to see him squeeze it just one more time.

horn

Poetry Contest


The cover photo on this page is a picture of a bereavement heart. Bereavement* is the grief work after loss/death of someone. (Photo prompt by Marcella Leff, administrator)

You may write a poem in any style or form ONLY on bereavement* (see below). Post the poem only. Explanation about your poem is permissible. No other photos. Poems with photos will be deleted. You may post as many poems as you want but comments are counted per poem only.

Winner will be judged by the most original comments. One person can make many comments but only counts as one comment for winning at the end of the time limit. Your own comments do not count because you cannot judge your own poem.

Contest will be from April 14 until April 21, 9:30 pm. All members are invited to enter this contest. You can add your friends to join. Challenge them.

Administrators may post examples of poems but are not eligible to win. Administrators can like your poems but their comments do not count.

A new prompt will be posted every week. This is the fourth in the death and dying series for National Poetry Month for April.

The five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are a part of what is considered bereavement. Last week’s anticipatory grief has similar stages but expressing them are different. In bereavement there are more “If only… or What if….” These feelings are not sequential and can be alternating.

*bereavement please read the following link:

http://grief.com/the-five-stages-of-grief/

for a better understanding to write your poem.

 

 

My Poem

 

I never understood

Why the good die young

While the dead remain alive

Until there last song is sung.

 

 

I never understood

How you could fight so hard

While others play all day

Until they flip over their last card.

 

 

I never understood

How my heart bleeds deep

While others run

Running down the street.

 

 

I never understood

Why God chose you

As I sit in my window

Watching bullets fly through.

 

 

I never understood

What this world’s about

While they look away

I scream and pout.

 

 

I never understood

But I guess it doesn’t matter

God said it’s your time

And now my heart is splattered.

 

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

4/19/2014

bereavement

Pictures of Al and Me


Every time I have moved, I once again go through the clutter. This time I got serious. If I hadn’t seen or used it since I have been here, it is gone. It actually makes me feel like I am doing that deep cleaning thing.

Going through papers I found some photos of Al and I. Some are of him and me when we were young. One I remember me as a teen. Here they are.

Top Left, Al and me, Top Right, me, Next left, him and me, next right, him,

Next left, him, me, and sister, next right, me in little green dress, Al in red striped shirt,

Next left, Al and his birthday cake, next right, him and me, next left, me and my granddad, next right, Al and little sister, next left, Al and his fish, next right, him and me at Deer Forest.

Hope you enjoy going back in time with Al and me, since you have followed my blog for so long.

Alvin, littleAl little 2