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pumpkins and brack. scary stories and jack…
headless horsemen at night, witches cackle bringing fright.
there'll be bowls of sweets
for the tricks and the treats
wolf howling at the moon
a new year to begin soon.
zombies walk from the grave
bats flee from their cave…
I've no idea where I'm going with this…
Happy Halloween!
e.darcy
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me…
I once was lost, but now am found;
was blind, but now I see…
A song I've heard all my life…a song without any meaning to my life…
That was then.
The words echo in my head…
When this flesh and heart shall fail,
and mortal life shall cease;
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
I'm brought instantly back… rows and rows of black… Cold chill. sit. kneel. stand and pray… sit. kneel. stand and pray. A choir's voice filling the cathedral…
The clouds had lifted for only the day…rays of sunbeams warmed our backs… Yellow leaves gather where road meets walk. A thousand footsteps shuffle. A thousand footsteps following…
The frost is creeping in…
We layer two pairs of socks…hoodies, blankets. We snuggle in bed longer to keep some heat in. Winter has blown her way through with an icy chill…
A house sits empty, dark…cold. A family-still in denial, in disbelief.
An extra ticket purchased-I'm not going alone now… We won't be separated-there won't be a goodbye..Thank god.
Everything with us is always the harder way-nothing ever works out as easily as it should-but with this, I really really believe that Sheila is keeping an eye out for us. The ONLY seat left on the plane just so happened to be right next to mine…
—–
We're still very much in the wilderness-just in the deep of the woods, where you have no idea which direction to go… Thoughts that you're lost go through your head at first-panic…and then the silence sets in and all is calm-you're just trying to find your way out… Waiting for the light to guide you, waiting for the wind to whisper in your ear… A long journey this will be, scars and battle wounds.
It's been two weeks since the night she was taken in the ambulance…
a long journey… a cold winter… an empty house.
…warmed hearts-knowing she is always there.
And so in my dreams–there would be a man. A family. A home. There would be laughter and much love… There would be children running around and sun and warmth. There would be chaos and clutter, comfort and security.
In the dream-we'd be running around in the yard-three kids screaming and laughing. Chasing and running away. The wet grass glistening in the afternoon sun. Everything was golden and sweet.
There was a man-and he was strong. He was everything I could ever want… I knew his smile was as big as his heart-not because I could see it, but because I could feel it.
The man of my dreams was a frequent visitor-and everything was perfect except for one thing…. He never had a face…
And I know this will sound corny and cliché. Typical and trite. Girly and silly…
But after I met Steven-after I started talking to Steven…after I fell deeply in love, head over heels for Steven… I had a dream of the man, of the family, of the home… And that night-and forevermore, the man had a face…
e.darcy
When I was a young witch, I'd chant my own spells-and create bottles of love potions… They always consisted of brown sugars and whites. Vanilla and flower petals. Cinnamon and cloves, sometimes a touch of extra spice to keep the fire alive.
Opening the bottle of vanilla extract brought back those smells of being that young witch-brewing up my lover…
A bottle of Old Spice cologne-so rich and manly, rugged and musky. I'd open the bottle carefully and breathe in the scent of the man I dreamed in my head-though he never had a face…
e.darcy
they wake.
a body in the room.
sleeping. dormant.
they bloom.
just as her body leaves our view…
they bloom.
leaving reminders of her wake..of her sleep. of her absence.
of the silence left behind…
I've been so out of the loop on everything that has been going on. Just… behind on everything. On emotions for everything–on days, on hours. No responding to e-mails or phone calls, not picking up the pen to write people back. meh…
I'm exhausted. Wanting to crawl into bed and sleep and sleep. Maybe it's everything catching up on me, maybe it's just hibernation time…the sun leaving abruptly at 7pm or earlier, leaving us in pitch black and freezing coldness…
This past week went by in such a terrible blur. It's all a nightmare and I still wonder when we will wake up from it. It hasn't set in-and I wonder if it ever will.
From warm body, to cold… From hospital to home. Home to church and into the grave-I watched all of it… I watched and witnessed every bit-and still I expect her to be sitting at the kitchen table, a crossword or magazine. Her glasses either perched on her nose, or being twisted about in her hand.
An aspect I am having such a difficult time grasping is how soon, how quickly words move from 'we are' to 'we were', 'she loves' to 'she loved' and so on… I keep talking of her as if she is still with us, still here, still talking about the people she loves dearly.
—
The nights are cold, but her house is still warm, still alive. Bodies still live in it if only for a few more days. But it aches in my heart to think what is to become of the home…the cobwebs and dust collected. The dark windows and empty rooms… Her teapots all set in a row just so. Her perfume perfectly placed on her vanity waiting for use… Her shoes sitting at the side of her bed-waiting to be worn.
Sheila. The grandmother that I never had-the one I always wanted. Someone who would love me unconditionally, full of warmth, of love, of laughter.
I had a full lifetime of love to give to her, in just a few short years… But in those years-I am so very lucky to say that we have beautiful memories that I will cherish forever.
I could never even explain what Sheila is like–without bursting out laughing at all the things she says, does, is… If it's a bit naughty or silly–it's Sheila.
–
I can feel her in my heart. On the second day in the hospital I no longer felt her in her body, not in the room, but in my heart. She's been turning off lights, stopping watches, blowing chimes when there is no wind.
The night she died…a full moon. Round and beautiful like her little face.
You are the heart of the family, the beat that keeps everyone in check. You are the core, the center, the ultimate. You are the sun and everyone-the planets. We revolve around you, need you, can barely breathe without you. But know that you will forever be the beat in the heart..in my heart, in all of our hearts.
It feels like I had her for much longer-but I know that I will have her from now until forever more… Sheila, we all love and miss you so terribly much. You're in my heart, in the moon, in the butterflies that were the little mysteries of your home…
e.darcy
She went peacefully… Her family surrounding her throughout the day. Kisses on her warm forehead, squeezing 'i love you' three times on her hand… We are all still in so much shock, so much pain, so much confusion. We are all so exhausted by the long days, the emotions, the suddenness…
I wanted to write something, to thank everyone who has sent us their thoughts, their words, their prayers. Every one of them is welcomed-honoured…
A full moon… clear dark skies with scatterings of stars.
She is with us, always in our hearts. But we want her…so very much, to be with us, always-every day, in her body, spirit, and mind.
I want to grab a bag and pack up her stuff. She'll want her own nighty, her own knickers, she'll want her own teeth-and maybe some lotion… Hospital air gets awfully dry.
I want to make sure to keep the house clean, the way she would, that way when she comes home-she won't have to worry about it. I walk through the rooms, closing one door behind me, thinking that the smell of the anxious cigarette smoke will stain deep into her curtains-and how I don't want her to be able to smell that when she opens her doors.
—-
The door closes, lights go on. The last words I hear is how fast the paramedics will be driving.
—-
The aftermath. The waiting game. I finally will us to sleep-knowing in my heart that she'll soon have her eyes open-that in time, she'd sit up… maybe even speak. My heart knew well that her eyes would give a little flicker today, that she'd show us something…tell us she's there. The rest can be dealt with. A wheelchair?-easy. Spoonfed?-no problem…
—-
A machine breathes for her, tubes down her throat.
Panicked phone calls, rushed driving, silence and time…
—-
I'm waiting to wake up. We're all waiting to wake up. This can't be real…This can't be her. It's not her time yet… She isn't meant to go like this. She has so much to see, so much to live for…
…and so we kiss her warm forehead, hold to her soft hands. Looking past the tubes and wires and beeps is difficult at first-but she's there…somewhere.
—-
This is the most difficult thing…
She's made such an impact on my life, on the lives around her. She scooped me up and stitched me into her clan. She is just as much apart of my world, of my life, of my family than any drop of blood…
There is no way. no fucking way that this is how she ends her story.
…We search for face for any signs–and I'm so afraid that she's already so far away. Every now and then we get a little movement, maybe a hint? maybe she knows we're there… I just need her eyes. a little bit. a tiny whisper of hope.
