Why we write; why we share #lost

** WARNING*** may make some feel uncomfortable, especially those that do not like acknowledging feelings or life.

I want to be real for a second or truthful since I try to always be real. I am unhappy, I have an amazing husband, three smart kids with an angel watching over us; a house, a car, free time to work on my body and mind not to mention food whenever I want. I have nothing to complain about really. Except that inside I often feel sad, I feel less than, not good enough. I go to bed with ambitions of what I want to do the next day but wake up every morning with no inspiration or want to do anything. I watch others around me having their first or last babies and think enviously of the beautiful journey they are starting, do I want more kids? No I have birthed four; my selfish mind does not want to put my body through that again. Sometimes I dream that if I had a large sum of money I would open an orphanage or home for kids that had no one, I want to help but do not know how so I do nothing. I have three beautiful kids to care for but they are getting older and in our amazing democratic Canadian system they become less and less needed of me, they are privileged white kids after all and get mostly the best access to fill their wants and needs with so many extras that some can only dream of. Do I have another baby and make that my life? Just keep having babies, no. Why would I not adopt then or take in foster kids, my husband would never agree to that that is why, after being together for sixteen years, we are ships passing in the night with a few lucky but very random moments together to remember why and how much we love each other. I have gone to University thinking that would ‘fix’ this void I have and yes it does feel good to complete a paper, class or essays after researching new topics, it is an amazing extravagance to be able to learn for fun, I realize that perhaps more than I should which is why I feel like I am wasting time when I should be helping others, that’s what we’re here for right? Then I give myself an out, I have kids that are not grown, I cannot just fill my time helping others when they still need me. So I do little things, donate, volunteer when I can but it is never enough to make me feel like I am doing enough. I look at women younger than me that have accomplished so much in terms of a career, god I wonder what it would feel like to live in a tiny apartment and put on pretty business clothes everyday and go to an office, yes the lamest dream ever, I know but when you have been at home with kids for eleven years and you know there are still at least fifteen more to go you dream lame escape wonders. So back to my incomplete self, how do we feel enough when surrounding us is a world in peril. I imagine what a yucky world this will be in a hundred years and am thankful I will no longer be a part of it though I am sad to think that my children and possible grandchildren will have to deal with it; live in it. Maybe it will be better but what I have learned in many courses, classes and workshops, it will not and that’s a sad, hard fact because greed, hate and guns have taken over. So maybe I need to go live in a hut on the beach or a cabin in the woods and become that crazy lady who lives alone maybe then I’d feel at peace. But it is doubtful. Even this, writing to strangers on a blog trying to decipher feelings through words, posting on facebook to get reactions or kind words. Or those that search for fights or arguments to have on social media out of boredom? In reality all we all want is to be heard and understood, to have a connection to one another. I guess it is why we share. Why we write. #lost

 

Thanks for reading,

Sheri

Capture your Grief Poetry 11-15

Altar

Christening

Marriage

Funeral

Service

To rejoice

To love

To cherish

To remember

To dread

Or

Is an altar a business based on your feelings

Or

 A need society has imposed

By Sheri Hall

Music

Fills your heart with a memory

Clears your head from thought

or

Floods your head with memory

Hurts your heart with thought

By Sheri Hall

 

Season

Sparkles in their eyes while a different kind shines in yours

Memories to be made while ones haunt you from before

Laughter becomes forgetfulness if only for a moment

A season can bring many things to light

A summer breeze drawing a calming breathe

A winter chill forcing us to hug tighter

A fragrant bloom making us smile

A falling leaf reminding us we all die

By Sheri Hall

Dark; Light

The dark part of you mind that you run from to find the light

The brightness that makes you cringe and want to hide in the dark

A light chat about the weather can turn into a dark chat about life

A dark sorrow shared can turn into a light weight lifted

Without one there can not be the other

By Sheri Hall

 

Community

Surrounds you; crushes you

Feels you; sympathises you

Feeds you; helps you

Loves to leave you patting themselves on the back

Helps the struggling; counsels the lost

Paid minimally; unappreciated  by their boss

Government; society; a mixed up bunch of ethics

Want versus need gets ignored through greed

Community can mean so many different things

All becomes irrelevant; traveling into the wind

By Sheri Hall

 

Thanks for reading,

Namaste,

Sheri

f0c47d1320fb2fe769d047d5fc34df45Up next 16,17 & 18

 

 

 

 

 

Feb. 14 2012

I was naïvely hopeful, ignorantly wistful, my baby had a setback, that was all. We would be discharged very soon and back home to deal with our new reality. I was so focused on what had to be done to live with and take care of a child with multiple disabilities that I had no room for any other reason or facts. I needed to deal with the very arduous task of the hard future, ordering machines, thinking about lifts or special classes or needs necessities. I was blindsided.

She was admitted on Feb, 12 2012 after turning blue in her fathers arms, he screamed for me, I yelled to call 911, I gave her CPR, the attendant told me to lift her neck, a rush of quietly gasping air rushed out, oh ya. I forgot that part; guilt saved for later. She was breathing; gasping. the ambulance came within minutes. Amazing.

The next day a blur, the day after that Valentines day. I walked to the store, down the hall from the PICU in BCCH and bought these three, with so much hope. I bought Lily the little grey elephant thinking it represented her so well, her brothers got what also represented them and they still sleep with them on their bed until this day. I knew or thought, naïvely, at that time, that I would buy her a big one just like her brothers got the next year. I wanted her to pick the one she wanted. Except that did not happen, the next Valentines with her never happened. Forever a heart holiday, just now a broken reminder of one. Not the hopeful ending that everyone is comfortable with but the truth.

lilys-elephant

Thanks for reading,

Sheri

Capture your Grief Poetry Days 8-10

 

Resource

1 800 grief; if only it were so simple

Wanting for a space for it to be free

Holed up in your soul crying; banging on your heart to be let out

Book after book, searching for answers

If only there was a number to call

The other end knowing  all

By Sheri Hall

Memory

Those eyes pierced in mine

A memory that fades over time

Her smile etched on my heart

Harder to see the longer we’ve been apart

Memory is a funny thing

The ones we wish to stay linger at the edges

The ones we wish to forget

Haunt us; dredges

Our souls cry for the memory of a last touch

Our mind remembers the last breath

To jump into a memory for a moment would be bliss

A painful fall; willing to risk

By Sheri Hall

Support

Awkward glances, wayward looks

Silent pity

The imaginary hallway that forms as you move pass

A parameter appears where there seems to be a shield

Forcing the uncomfortable ones aside

It is ok, their support will come

A time appears when you look others in the eye; again

You see their shy smile

 You understand over time; they want to support but did not know how

They gave you space; that was their support

Others came in unabashedly

Some even annoyingly

The support you appreciate most after all is the silent ones

The quiet notes left behind

The understanding nods

The support we do not always see

But after time we feel it

We learn it was there all along

By Sheri Hall

 

Thanks for reading,

Namaste,

Sheri

f0c47d1320fb2fe769d047d5fc34df45Up next 11,12 & 13

Dealing with Grief

I want to share some thoughts on the grieving process and hope you will share your feelings and thoughts as well.

I have encountered many types of loss over the last ten years and as I am an analytical person I tend to look for similarities, differences and coincidences or circumstances in things.

For example when I first attended a bereavement group, after trying individual counselling (with four different counsellors- two women, two were men, neither helped, because in my mind, though they had been trained in psychology and counselling they clearly had never experienced a raw grief circumstance, I am basing this on their comment and reactions, anyways, at the bereavement group I met a lot, too many, parents that had lost children and babies of all ages to all sorts of circumstances, in the two years that I attended and I will never forget the first time I went. I shook the whole drive there, I cried the whole time being there, blubbering my way through my reason for going. I felt so comforted, in a morbid way I guess to hear their stories and know that I was not alone in my feelings. Fast forward to a few months in and I had gotten to know quite well a few of the moms and dads that regularly attended as well as listened to a few random people that came and went every week, ones son was killed by a drunk driver, ones child fell out a window, shocking and troubling to listen to, when you feel the pain in someone’s voice. But after listening to the ones that had older children die, I started to feel like maybe I was not deserving to feel the grief I was, after all some of these parents watched their kids suffer for months, some years with terminal illness, some were so in shock at their healthy 3 or 4 year old being suddenly diagnosed and dying immediately, it was so very heartbreaking. I was living in a bubble of other people’s pain and you know it was easier than focusing on my own pain. But I also remember feeling like, wow these people deserve to grieve more than me because of their loss being more prominent than my two month old dying.

As I lived through the fog of raw grief which in my opinion does not start until after the shock wears off, which can take a few weeks or months, for me it was almost six months when it hit me, when I allowed myself to re live what we went through in such a short time. And I was suddenly stuck in raw grief; I was back at that first meeting as a blubbering fool. I remember one of the dads telling me after a long rambling of me sobbing and saying what’s the point to life when this stuff happens, when there is so much suffering, I kept saying why, why. And he came to me after and said that his wife (who was not there that night) had said such similar things not long ago, they had been going a year before me so this was over a year into their loss and seven or so months into mine, I was sad to know that she felt the same but also in knowing my thoughts were not random, were not crazy, I felt comforted.

Then comes the realization of firsts, around a years’ time, the first Halloween, Christmas, Birthday. And this is when most people think that after the first you should be done grieving and moving on.

This is so wrong.

Grief is a struggle to live through and learn from without the judgment of others.

But you find yourself pretending you’re “better” because you don’t want them to think you’re stuck because unfortunately that is what some think. Because for example when their high school friend died in a tragic car accident they remember being really sad for a few months but after that first year it didn’t really affect them anymore and they relate this loss to your loss.

I too have lost many acquaintances and friends from high school, a few cousins and few close friends, and a few co- workers. It sucks, yes, it’s hard, yes, it’s sad, yes, you feel for their lost life, their family, but it’s not the same as when you lose your mom who is your best friend and she dies suddenly after fighting breast cancer. Or when your child of seventeen gets diagnose with terminal cancer, or any ones child dies, or when your spouse gets killed in an accident or when your best friend or sibling that you cannot live without suddenly dies. I am not saying these people have a right to grieve more, I just believe that their grief is very different than the other. It is very different when someone dies of old age then when someone dies tragically from suicide or murder or a genetic malformation but sometimes we lump loss together, and ‘sympathy lasts longer than grief’ but someone living with or through their grief will often tell you they do not want sympathy, they simply want to be allowed to grieve in their own time, they want to feel sad when they feel sad and they want not to be judged or ignored. It is a different type of grief it is still grief and I am not trying to dumb down one to the other, I just feel that those that think you should be ‘done grieving’ are the ones that have experienced only the preceding types, the ones where you feel sad for a short time, I think that is called empathy not grief.

I invite you to share your thoughts on grief.

Thanks for reading.

Namaste,

Sheri

Capture your Grief in 18 days

February 1 2017

In 17 days on the 18th of February it will be 5 years since my daughter Lily died unexpectedly in my arms, I say unexpectedly not because we did not know something was wrong but we were so surprised at what we were suddenly going through and although we learned of many complications in her tiny body that made it impossible for her to live, we learned those in the matter of a week, the last week of her life, after many scans and x rays, until that point we had a healthy pregnancy followed by a traumatic delivery that was to leave her with a disability, the seriousness of it to be determined as she grew. But she did not grow, she died. She died after they told us she would never breathe on her own, after they told us she needed a tracheotomy and 3 heart surgeries but was not nearly healthy enough to survive 1 surgery  let alone 4 and so we allowed them to remove her breathing tube and she died in our arms. I remember that day like a dream. I held her so tight praying for her to breathe on her own, I remember not wanting to look at her in case her face was blue; not wanting that to be my last memory of her. I remember walking down an incredibly loud hallway that was filled with silence, back to our car, not to return to that hospital for a year but that time to see her memorial tile that now sits outside the NICU. Numb with the shock of what just happened.

So in honor of the 5th year of her lost life I will be writing my grief in poem or short story form with Carly Marie’s Capture your Grief as a guideline ( photo below).

I will post them like the poem writing challenge of December, in groups of 3, although feeling overwhelmed today I may just be able to do 1. -Sunrise

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoy and implore you to write for yourself, to heal yourself, to help understand your grief or life changes that leave us feeling lost and confused.

Namaste,

Sheri

f0c47d1320fb2fe769d047d5fc34df45

 

Sunrise

The dawn of a new day

The first light seeps in

the thoughts come rushing back

the ones that kept me awake

praying for morning to come quickly

The memory of the previous week

was it all a dream

can I disappear into the sunset

and return with you in the sunrise

I wish I did not have to open my eyes

I sat for hours on a bench

 watching the sun come over the tree tops

 wondering where you have gone

dreaming you were watching this morning sky with me

But alas there will be many more without you

The beauty of them has not left me blind

so I assume I will be okay

the words it paints across the sky

fill my heart with hope

that tomorrows’ sunrise

I will be fine in time

By Sheri Hall

 

 

 

Poetry Challenge- Dreams, A job, Childhood

Dreams

Walking on a rainbow; she smiles

Floating on a cloud; she laughs

Whistling of the wind; are you ok? She asks

When my nose is cold; I think of you

Her eyes as dark as the moon is bright

Look into my heart; soothing the chills

Her stare holds me in an embrace

My eyes puddle; at a chance to see her face

As the sun comes up

I reach out my hand

She is gone again

By Sheri Hall

Childhood

Some remember it fondly

Some wish to forget

Innocent adventures imagination brought

Hungry hours stretched into darkness only food as thoughts

Silly friends with arts and crafts teachers taught

Forced labor with a harsh hand hardened hearts wrought

Lucky few born in a better place or a different colored face

Others rose to simply survive

Childhood can be many things

But very different memories for us all to bring

By Sheri Hall

 

 

A job

The twinkle in the eye as you start your first day of your first job

What will you do, who will you meet, how you will learn?

The world becomes different, different rules outside of family or school

New skills get formed, new friendships made; authority becomes your boss

That summer you tried something different

Babysitting, carwashes, fruit picking so many fond memories the first one

A shame though that as we grow our job becomes less than

Less fulfilling than when it is only for fun or pocket money

But now for life for rent for food it

Becomes a must not a want

A job is many things

The water a waiter brings

The pool that gets cleaned everyday

The weeds that get pulled as the houses are painted

The food that is grown and delivered to the store by the drivers

The stock people that unload the food into the store or ring up the register

The person that cleans the messes

While the people upstairs fill out the invoices and paychecks

The mom that cooks, cleans, wipes dirty faces

So many jobs but the one we always remember

That first one with the happiness it brought

By Sheri Hall

 

 

 

 

Poetry Writing Challenge #23, 24, 25

Beauty

Her beauty they saw in her grace

Beauty she thought was in a face

Her beauty they felt with her touch

Beauty she thought could not be rushed

Her beauty they heard of through the vines

Beauty she struggled with all the time

Her beauty they read in her words

Beauty she had danced its chords

Her beauty they knew she could not see

Beauty she no longer wanted to be

Her beauty a struggle to be free

By Sheri Hall

 

 

Strength

I see the strength in you that you do not

As you hold in your sobs for fear of others thought

I hurt inside knowing you can’t see it

As I try desperately to make you believe it

How do I show you how strong you can be

When you constantly hide your ears from me

Lessons learned never come easy

But learning them is the gift we need

That strength is in all of us

Enabling us to succeed

By Sheri Hall

 

 

 

Feelings

How does it feel when they cheer and clap

Their applause shaking the floor to collapse

How does it feel to give praise and raise others up

A grateful smile with confidence brought

How does it feel when left alone

Sometimes a respite no one knows

How does it feel when your’ the joke

Never okay, inside you more broke

How does it feel when your’ left to shine

Inside your heart knows your pride

How does it feel when we fail

Hard not to exit but continuance prevails

By Sheri Hall

 

 

poem-challengeUp next # 26, 27 & 28

Thanks for reading,

Namaste

Sheri

Writing heals

Life

What is life?

Is it family; love

Is it happiness; success

Is it discovery; growth

To learn, to love, to succeed

All facets of life

But what of suffering

Pain; loss

Tragedy; disease

Poverty; injustices

As all things have two sides

So does life

By Sheri Hall

A Story

One we tell one we share one we write

How we fib how we plight how we fight

Some we must some we don’t some we still might

Take it hard take it seriously takes it light

It is all inside us to get it right

Your story her story his

Mine theirs ours

We all have a story to write

 

By Sheri Hall

 

Summer

As the barbeque lights, scents fill the air

The crunch of kernels smothered in butter

The sweet taste of summers’ grain on a cob remains a constant fling

The smell of skin that’s been warmed by the sun the warm touch reminds us of

Young summer nights

Spent under the moon frolicking in the warm winds that drift off the oceans breeze

A salty kiss, a burnt touch, a bite of corn

Summers a dream that fulfills the core

Our senses being teased of memories as smells drift our path

A constant reminder of summers past

How we long for summer to last

By Sheri Hall

 

 

 

poem-challengeComing next # 11, 12 & 13

Thanks for reading,

Namaste,

Sheri

Write Write Write Write Write

Blue

 

Blue is often thought of as sad

Feeling blue; singing the blues

However

There are things that are the color of blue

Perhaps might make you glad

A clear blue sky

A crashing blue ocean

A tranquil blue pond

Dreamy blue eyes that peak into your heart

Juicy blueberries that quench thirst and appetite

The beautiful blue flowers that pop up in spring

That blue sapphire that sparkles on a ring

So much to enjoy from the color blue

This is my dream for you

To enjoy the blue around you even when it’s stuck inside you

 

 By Sheri Hall

 

 A Process

 

The process of life begins at birth

We process the faces that greet us

We process how to nourish ourselves

The process of learning sleep

Process is how we’ve formed life to be

Processing first steps first runs, first falls

We enter the school of process where we learn how to sit

To listen, raise our hand and share

The process of how society functions

The rules that form our process of a successful world

We cannot escape the process of life

Would we want to if we could?

Some would, I would

Before I lose and they begin the process of my burial

 

 

 By Sheri Hall

 

 Inspired By Nature

 

 The flowers that sway effortlessly but don’t break

The trees that lose their leaves but don’t die

The grass that turns brown but returns in the spring

The ocean that recedes by the power of the moon

The snow that falls blanketing all in its in beauty

The set of the sun before it breaks

 

 By Sheri Hall

 

poem-challenge

Coming next #8,9 & 10

Thanks for reading,

Namaste,

Sheri