I have thought that writing would make the pain easier to bear. Make reality easier to handle. It does neither. Writing helps me to see where the pain is and express in a manner that is safe. Those that read it do so because they choose it. It is not forced on them by my raging emotions, shouting and forcing them to listen. This is safe for others. Maybe even safe for me.

Easter

This was the day the Lord had made. I did not rejoice and I was not glad in it.

I cried
screamed
hated you for leaving me
The light in the kitchen broke
The mailbox has to be replaced
The doorknob from the kitchen the to garage broke -
I couldn't get my car.

You abandoned me.
You left me alone
And I hated you - today.

These are your jobs.
Things that you were good at.
Things I did not want to do.

I fixed the light as best I can.
The neighbor replace the doorknob.
The new mailbox is in the garage.

It will all get done
without you

I hate you sometimes
I hate that you left me
I hate that I live without you

I miss you

Capacious Memories

I made it
Wasn't sure I could
But the mountains and trees reminded me
Of God's eternal presence

I am not alone
Though you are not here
Never have I been less alone
God has made His presence known

Though tears fell
They were not the tears of a shattered life
A broken dream
Or foolish regrets
They were the tears of capacious memories
One upon another they came
of laughter
happy moments together
ridiculous
quiet
comforting
delightful
hopeful
treasured memories of a life shared in that place
and every place
we shared

Thank you for being a part of my life
for being my life
for filling my memories

I love you