Some hearts healed

My parents
Both have gone
How grateful I am
For what they gave
Their nurturing, their love

When her beloved passed away
Her life was not the same
Not having him beside her
To talk to, or hold her hand

And we were not to know it
But her time with us was short
It only took forty days
To die from a broken heart

Hard for us to comprehend
So tortuous to see
Her body each day grew weaker
Till she slipped away from family

Our hearts are broken in pieces
As they did, not that long ago
But we know that she is happy now
Back in the arms of her lovey Joe

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Mumma ~ 30.3.1929 – 29.5.2017

Poppa ~ 03.7.1927 – 19.4.2017

It is with great sadness that I let you know, that my darling mum Irene, passed away on the 29th of May. Fighting for almost 19 days, no food, no fluid. Some complications, but under advice, my brother and I made the hardest decision to let nature takes its course.
The thread that holds me together is knowing that both ‘my penguins’ are now in each other’s arms once again, after forty days of being apart.

I stayed in her hospital room, as I did for Pop, for the two and a half weeks, loving her, talking to her, hugging her, kissing her. The last 5 days unresponsive, but I spoke to her continually. My heart tearing in to pieces, with every shallow breath she took.

Now I take the road of grief and it hurts and cuts like a knife, both my parents now gone so soon, too soon.

RIP Muma and Poppa

till I see you again

xx

Goodbye my friend for Rachel her young daughter & her friends on WP

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as the soft winds blow across the shamrocks
as the salt spray vanishes ‘cross the Irish seas
~ a breath last drawn, somewhere in our world
the insidious hands of a cruel disease
grasping at your loveliness your beauty and your strength
and if I had a four leaf clover, I’d wish for your return

you prayed for its release, we prayed alongside with you
and if hands weren’t clasped, you were in our thoughts
to the Universe; for though I’d never met you
a door was opened to my heart, you let the soft Irish wind
touch my soul, with your words and smiles

a life sorely missed, by your family and by us all
one moment you were with us ~ the other you were gone
we miss the friendship that you gave, the happiness you shared
your ‘lists’ and ‘nods’ and humour ~ life will never be the same

our darling Katie ~ the Irish lass who we all loved
our hearts will remember you, as you watch from up above
I thank you for being you, the gentleness of a friend
I met through writing on W P and my tears keep falling
like the Irish mist ~ I will miss you constantly

R.I.P Katie – October 2013

This was ‘our’ Katie, the Irish lass with a smile in her words, who brought me and many others so much joy.
‘Katiekins’ ~ I miss you, I love you.  You are at peace now darling and I am sure you are watching over everyone *nods nods*.

Katie was one of our fellow writers on WordPress .  If you knew her and you would like to write something to her daughter Rachel please post on  http://irishkatie.wordpress.com/2013/09/28/this-isnt-goodbye/

xxx

[youtube.com/watch?v=KHSV8igDiEo]irish_ireland_shamrock_flag

A time

death-quotes-7

shock
confusion
struggle
pain
questions
anger
never the same
grief
shadows in the day
colours are lost
sleepless nights
the loss of souls
who slip away
coming to terms
death displayed
tears are shed
smiles are raised
words are read
spirits lifted
more ways than one
this is when
I know
my job was done

©jmtacken Dec 2013

For http://dversepoets.com and also for the GMan

http://g-man-mrknowitall.blogspot.de  who have us doing 55 ‘worders’ !

My 1st Service …..

Can I sing Hallelujah!

The day as told by Mumsy –

  1. Woke up early, ‘faffed’ about, with a lot of pacing. Changed part of the Eulogy, as was thinking about it in bed last night, that I had to move a paragraph or two.
  2. Got daughter to move said paragraphs and reprint. Had cig.
  3. Swallowed more health food tablet relaxers – meant to have 4 a day I had 5 in the morning…wasn’t taking any chances.
  4. Showered, dressed, pinned my name badge on my jacket. Respectfully dressed in black linen pants, black suit jacket , black shoes and a mustard colour top underneath (sounds terrible but it’s okay~trust me).
  5. Paced, breathed, inhaled, exhaled making noises.
  6. Had another cig (mybad I know) more pacing.
  7. Time had come to leave – wanted to ‘call in’ – sick.
  8. Packed briefcase and drove away, all the time self mantra’s of –  I can do this – I will be excellent. I will not fail, going through my head.
  9. Arrived and finally found a car spot – arrived an hour early.
  10. Walked up to  group of people and as they saw my badge – realised who I was.
  11. Daughter in law and son came up to me and a kiss on the cheek (don’t know if that’s normal for a Celebrant) but we had talked over the phone quite a bit and it seemed natural.
  12. I went inside and paced and went to the loo twice, then paced some more. Doing the A E I O U exercises (quietly).
  13. The ‘gathering room’ overlooked a lake so I stood at the window..more ‘mantra-ing’.
  14. The FD Assistant Robyn arrived – introductions. I asked her about presenting to the coffin and where do I stand at the end, she said I could do what I felt was right and told me to breathe (I must have looked as if I wasn’t at that stage) and she assured me I would be fine…..uh huh…sure…
  15. TIME
  16. I walked up and looked at the woman lying in the coffin, the woman who I had never known, that I wrote about and said this is for you Josie.
  17. The family came in for the viewing.
  18. The rest came in and sat down.
  19. Robyn and I walked between the seats, manoeuvring around 2 pushers that 2 young mums left in the way….
  20. Presented and I walked to the Lectern.
  21. Started (am I too close to the microphone…too far??)
  22. Made a couple of furfies with some words 2 – possibly 3 times throughout. Never try to say ‘Joke Telling Tradition’ as it ends up Joke Trelling tradition – I corrected and moved on.
  23. Introduced the granddaughter, she said a poem and recited a memory. though a few tears, she did well.
  24. My real boo-boo was –  my cup of water was on her right hand side and I was standing on her left and as she was reading I reached behind her and grabbed the cup, realising well that will look good in the recording…damn it!
  25. There were a few laughs and also tears, a combination which was accepted.
  26. Finished and Wind Beneath My Wings was the closing song. It started and half way through I went and stood facing the coffin at the front. Then I bowed my head in respect, until the curtain closed.
  27. I then turned to face the Assembly, reassuring smiles and small nods of “It’s ok”.
  28. Robyn was behind them all,  facing me…….. she gave me a thumbs up!! I couldn’t believe it.
  29. Then she walked up and stood by me, announcing that the ceremony had finished and for them to go into the adjoining tea rooms.
  30. Everyone started filing out, one elderly gentleman (I don’t know if a relative or friend) hung back and whilst Robyn was standing next to me (remember she was judging my performance)  came up to me took my hand and said “That was really beautiful”.   Do you know how I felt then? I was smiling inside and out and graciously thanked him.
  31. I was invited back for a coffee with the family and stood rather awkwardly, wanting to leave them alone. One lady came up and said that I was wonderful.  Another said you have such a beautiful speaking voice, I have heard some celebrants and they sound like fish wives, you did a beautiful job thank you. Then another said the same.
  32. Robyn then came up to me as I was leaving and said  “You know I did have my doubts, with this being your first service, but you did a really wonderful job and I will be recommending you!”

So my friends – I did it, I got through and as I sit and write, I’m pretty pleased with how I did, though I think the adrenalin is still cursing through my veins as I have more butterflies now than this morning.

I want to thank  ALL OF YOU for your encouragement, your support and your kindness and really your comments HELPED ME GET THROUGH THIS.  So ….thank you from my ‘beaty thing’.

Mumsy

xxx

Is it you or an illusion (Prose)

My_lost_love_by_schabi

does my mind play tricks on me
a magician who waves the wand
across the top hat for a rabbit to appear
have you returned to fill the lacuna in my life
the missing piece ~ the closure
You, who I relied upon, who sated my desires
the figure beneath the ghostly sheet that walks
the passage-ways of my dreams

is my love for you not finished
I see you walk along concrete streets
out of doorways ~ I hear the bell
that peals your existence
my mind sees you, two steps in front of me
back turned distancing yourself
I call, but have no answer
is this your sign to move on, relinquish
what I feel

to someone that I loved
yet you are creeping back,  inch by inch
to present day, disrupting the life that I
had to make, a decision not of mine
to forget what was ours, I can’t extinguish
the love we had, unrealistically so to ask
and my question is ~ should you not let me be
so that I move on

I shall answer ~ a finger placed upon your
lips, I cannot, not for now in this moment
I feel you next to me, a hand held
a whispering kiss
the passions of the night, the laughter
in the days, the wine against the sunsets
you are not real ~ you have disappeared
and I walk the concrete streets alone
holding you in my heart
cradling you in my arms

©jmtacken Sept 2013

Photo Credit schiraki.deviantart.com

Sea-Change

and so I write tonight not entirely of prose, poetry, my daughters, or my Mr. S,  but of me.

I listen again to Loreena McKennitt, for after Miriam introduced me to this amazing woman, I simply cannot stop playing her. She puts me in a special place of calm and tranquility.  I need that now.

Why do I write of me tonight?  Simply because I am considering a career change and I wish to share this with you, if I may.  For those who do not know my circumstance, presently I am working at Mr. S’s work place, it was only a contract and it ceases in 2 weeks.  Then unfortunately, I am out of work.

Life has thrust quite a great deal onto me, especially over the last couple of weeks and with the sad passing of my ‘proxy mother-in-law’  (I say that with love and admiration for this beautiful lady ) as Mr S are not married,  that I have decided to venture into something completely out of the ordinary,  for me at least.  For some time over the last year,  I have contemplated leaving the office environment, the politics, simply the mundane existence of working in an office, which I have done since I was sixteen years of age.  For five years I ran my own business from home, importing electronic components from trading houses overseas, this, though profitable it had no choice but to come to end when the internet came to being (and yet it doesn’t seem that long ago).

Then again time passes so quickly as we ‘mature’ our lives seem so much shorter and I do not wish to spend eight or more hours of the day, just getting through, because I feel that is all I am competent of doing.  The older we become, the more hesitant we are in change, of trying to discover anything new about ourselves or our capabilities. When we were young the ‘world was our oyster’, the doors opened for us, if we were willing to push them.  As we get older, self confidence slides and we find not trusting ourselves, our worth, as we may have done in our youth.  It may be due to the lack of certain skills, not keeping up with technology, or simply not fitting in. A few companies over here only will hire mature aged workers (40 plus) which is comforting for those (especially mums) who wish to re-enter the work force again, to keep their brains active, to earn a little ‘pocket-money’.  Jobs as in any country however are fairly scarce here and it can take anywhere from six to twelve months to find one, then it is a matter of will we be happy in it?

I have a birthday this week, I shall turn 58, it is time for a change of direction, a sea-change as we call it (though it has nothing to do with the sea).  At the end of July I am enrolling in a two day course to be a Funeral Celebrant. This is then followed with one to two months of assignments.

The reaction I have received when I tell friends and family?  A couple have giggled, but then after a moment thinking, with serious faces have said – “You would be excellent”.  I take this on board and hope but also wonder if I would be.  The more people I tell, the reactions are nothing but positive, this is what is spurring me on.

Why do I think I should do this – could do this? My reasons are simply these.
I have empathy. I am often asked for advice. I can write. I can talk in front of people.

I wish to work with families in their time of need, to help and guide them.  Some say what a depressing role to undertake (pardon that pun) but I spoke to another Celebrant who has been conducting services (and Marriages) for 7 years.  She told me that as you don’t meet the deceased and only know of their life through photos and family, that you are able to distance your self emotionally.  I hope that is the case, like any job, a professional veil must be worn.  There can be no breaking down half way through reading in a service, control must be had at all times, with a professional and caring attitude.  My age is of benefit (for a change) I do not know (at least over here), of young people conducting funeral services.  A mature, compassionate outlook is required, something that age has given me.

This could be my calling, this could be what I am destined to do, I have looked through the foggy lens of past employment, where I have not been truly happy, I am hoping that I complete the course and then begin a new life, where the pictures are clear.

My only worry is that I need to find something to keep me going financially throughout the time, as there are many Celebrants to choose from and it is a word of mouth existence, until Funeral Directors get to know of you and have you on their ‘books’.  So I begin the search for something perhaps part-time or Agency work as I step forth into this new life. My love for writing must be in my life and writing a service and poetry and helping those in grief who need sympathy and a shoulder … how gratifying and humbling would this be.  I hope I am up for the challenge.  I thank you for reading.

Below is the poem that I wrote for Mr. S’s mum ‘Rosy’ which I read at her Funeral.

The door shall not close.

We shall not close the door, or say goodbye
we simply stand and wave
the world remains a different place
now you have stepped out from our lives

a wife, mother, grandmother and great nanny
you enriched our lives with love, with laughter
with, courage, valiantly forging on, till the
battle was lost early Saturday ‘morn

we know that you had suffered
counting minutes of your pain
though you hardly ever grumbled
this was simply, not your way

amongst the loved ones, you have
left behind, of family, treasured friends
know, that they will smile once more
but their hearts need time to mend

our thoughts will be, of who you were
the life you lived and shared
your tenacity to face your fights
and faced you did – head on

we recollect your cheery smile, your
long blonde flowing hair, your eyes
the colour of the sea; there is a name
etched in our hearts – and that is Rosemary

you have taught us how to conquer
and taught us what is brave
and this, we’ll use in our own lives
with what we do, each day

so, if, we must wave to you
as you leave this earthly coil
it is not final – nor complete
we just wish you’d stayed a while

our hands, will be held in your hands
as you journey onto rest
we love and we shall miss you Rosy
in knowing you; we were truly blessed

The moments after

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In those moments
on warm cotton thread sheets
that yield heat into my skin
cozy-ing my slumbered body
when I rouse, not from the pre-set
tune of yesterday or the days before
that sings out from my bedside phone
that disturbs my solitude
the time when daylight says wake up

in those moments, as blinking eyes
flicker, with tears that sting a little
I feel my heart rate quicken
my senses start to stir
the day telling me to begin
listening to my breath for the first time
that day, unlike when I was closed off
in my sleep, when I didn’t hear
the sounds of birds waking in the branches
or the cars out on the highway
or the sheets swish as I moved

in those moments when I spread my hand
across the mattress that we share
to you, who lays next to me
to you, whose sleep is restless
I pause just for a second or maybe two
everything is not real, but it is
as is this morning
the Saturday has fallen once again
I remember the previous
the events, the loss

in those moments as we drive out
in our ‘getting along with life’
when the clock on the dashboard
clicks to 9:30am
I reach and hold your hand
with seven days that have passed
today is as real as last week was
tears well in our eyes
and the clock, as life, continues
9:31am

Passing through the storm

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The door to yesterday flung open
with force and raging temperament
twisting like the hurricane, emotions rose
taking pieces of our sanity – discarding them

with violent blows, hammer on wood
our senses were assaulted, our rational
dispersed like spiralling winds from a
tornado, unable to root to earth

the blanket of fog we stepped into
not only was outside at the hour
on the hour, but carpeted our bodies
as we witnessed, your end to life

today we woke, the fog lifted
though the grey still sits and waits
patiently for us, till we have thoughts
of tomorrow – till we are ordinary again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

May I just add a very big thank you to everyone for your empathy and condolences with the events of yesterday.

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’

Bring out your dead – Fiction Prose

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Winter solstice

crisp air stung as darkness fell

lantern lit hung on burial spade

its job to dig

the pit

coffin raw in state bore no brass or copper handles

… rough sawn timber to conceal the dead

family mourned

waited for the driver dressed in black

with his horse to cart their dead away

…he the suffering witness to tears in grief

women on bended knees scream out

her name

– 1848 –

the sickness hit …bodies fell

prevent the germs from spreading

pulse weak hot bread on soles of feet

reaction none ….pronounced dead

burial must be quick

white and drained of colour

lain not on satin but threadbare cloth

they lifted her…. to hearse

gathered to walk the streets

listen to the iron wheels the sounds of hooves

her whispers could not be heard amongst their wails

I did not die I am alive

……she cried beside them

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

150 words or less of Fiction For Angela Geoff  and

VisDare 21: Diverge

Thank you again for a wonderful photo prompt this week Angela.  Forgive the macabre. 113 words.