Friday 28 – 29th June 2013 – R.I.P

the book is signed, piece of folded paper
handed, with words of prayers and hymns
a photograph of the loved one passed
holds firm between shaking fingers
family in procession, relatives
friends of some, others unknown
the music plays

warm smiles and hugs of “I’m sorry”
whispered as if in the room of knowledge
people take their seats, others stand
faces forlorn – just before the music stops
to stand for the first hymn, a message is received
followed by another, of urgency of haste
apologies from us – us?
“I’m sorry – we have to leave”

doctors scurry, we are shuffled to
a smaller space, a quiet room
with couches of blue vinyl
doctors opening doors with hesitated voices
words we do not wish to hear
within minutes, though what is time?
numbers flash and sounds beep in time to breath
that’s heaved out from the soul

holding hands cold & blue amid white
starched sheets and plastic pink curtains
listening to others cry or talk in sleep
not of their own, whilst we sit at bedside
listening to the whooshing of the breath
that’s forced through tubes
and penetrates the skin, surreal

I feel disjointed to the outside world
not knowing shall it end or how
life – like a splinter under our skin
painful to remove, we sit and wait
return to darkened rooms where we pace
and hug and shed our tears
till we are told nothing more…
nothing can be done

I hold to thoughts of after life
while we wait for a person
of the cloth, us who don’t attend the church
the need for simple words
I kiss her forehead and tell her ‘spirit side’
she does not hear, she does not feel
and the fog lies heavy in the outside world
as it does within our hearts
metal, numbers, graphs and sounds
that hold her and echo in our heads

we say a prayer hold hands and cry
and wait till her last is drawn
watching numbers reverse
life retreat
numbed, the final grasp of life, I stare
at the clock upon the wall, the grief takes hold
strangulating like a python
the what if’s and the could haves as we
kiss and say goodbye
the drive home,  no heads on pillows for 2 days
the emptiness inside, I gaze into car windows
as we drive the highway cold and grey and ask myself
did someone you love die today?

We attended a funeral Friday afternoon 28th June, 2013, the mother of my girlfriend and we were called away.
Mr. S’s ( my darling partner in life) mother was taken to the hospital Friday afternoon passed 9.30am Saturday morning 29th June, 2013.

Apologies if this upsets anyone, I ‘had’ to get this out, these words were written into my phone over the past day… a day… and it seems as if it was a life time ago.

R.I.P ‘Rosy’

56 thoughts on “Friday 28 – 29th June 2013 – R.I.P

  1. I sincerely hope the act of recording this has been cathartic for you, and that blissful sleep and thoughtless rest has found you and all of your family. Loss is terribly hard, but your words can be lifeboats for the mind at times, and revelatory for those who read. The brutality of this piece is upsetting, but also beautiful. I hope your writing brings some solace.

    • May I thank you for reading and your beautiful comments. I had to say this tonight, this morning still so close in my mind of a brave woman who was taken too quickly. It was cathartic for me and I am glad that you have felt about this – as I intended it to read. Thank you so very much.

  2. I am very sorry to hear about your loss. This must be a very difficult period of time for you. Your words are beautiful and inspiring. I hope you are able to get some rest soon.

    In sympathy,

  3. Jen, I can only imagine how hard it must have been to write this. I admire your strength and courage – it takes a lot to accompany someone we love on their last journey.
    Rest when you can… and know you have done a wonderful thing today. Let your loving heart drown out the tears.

    • Thank you so much Brian – I slept, though I needed more, waking this morning stomach churns, knowing yesterday was real. I shall be writing more as this is my release valve, appreciated.

  4. Hugs to you and Mr. S. You have been through an emotional roller coaster. Sorry for the losses. Your words had me captured right there with you. I hope you may sleep and just take care if yourself. Letting go just doesn’t come easily…not for me anyway.

  5. I am so sorry Jen … truly I am. My deepest sympathies to you and your Mr. S. Now you lean on one another…and love … and one day remember good things.


  6. R.I.P ‘Rosy’

    You got me crying there. I am so sorry for your friend, and your loss.
    My deepest condolences to everyone who is hurting…

    Shaun x

  7. Pingback: Five Sentence Fiction – View | ROSALIND SMITH-NAZILLI -

  8. J,
    I am so terribly sorry for your loss. This is an absolutely beautiful and moving piece. (peace) I wish you and yours comfort as the days pass. Your words have given a gift and they do hear– don’t doubt that for a minute.
    Be well and be kind to yourself. It is a long process.

    • Thank you so much A. I appreciate your kindness and your condolences. No, I know she can hear me as she believed in life after, I wait now to hear from her. I shall, I am just drained and tired- which is expected. The funeral is Thursday – then we start to rebuild. xxx

    • Hello Gabs, thank you. I am up, writing, as I have missed it so. The funeral was today, we have climbed the hurdle and now one step in front of the other we move on. Thank you – truly. xxx

  9. Dear Jenny, Sorry to be coming to this so late – it’s such a beatiful piece expressing your love and pain. It must have been a distressing experience for you all. Best wishes to you and your family.

  10. I am so sorry for your loss my dear MM….I wasn’t aware of what had happened, we were on holiday….I apologize for not coming to you earlier…I understand it must have been extremely difficult for your lovely Mr S. & yourself. It must come as a relief that you have each other…I hope time will heal. I have you in my thoughts, love, xxx

    • There is no need to apologise T for being away or not knowing. I thank you that you have come in and read and given such kind thoughts. Time will heal and I thank you for your condolences. xx

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