Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Unanswered Questions

There is so much I still want to ask you, but I can't. Actually, I guess I can, and I do, but I just can't hear you answer me, at least not with my ears. In my heart, I think I hear you sometimes.

The hardest is when my children ask me things about me that I don't remember, but that you would never forget...

What kind of birthday cakes did I like to have?
What was my favorite thing about first grade?

And in moments when I find myself wanting to pick up the phone and call to ask you~

Can you go over with me again how to make your shepherd's pie that he loves so much?
Did I handle argument # 1003 between the older two as I should have?
How do I talk to her about not letting other people define her?
How do I let them know how much I love them?

I know that you are fine now, and that is what I prayed for - mercy for you - it's just tough for me.

I can keep trying to hear you. I can eat my soup from your bowl, sleep under your quilt, try to catch the scent of your favorite pot pourrie. I can keep trying to remember how it felt when you touched my face. I can keep picturing you laughing and happy and safe, because that is where you are. I love and miss you so much.


HandiCrafts said...


She can definitely hear you. You'll find her in the things you find happiness in.

When I had to go through her dresser, I found a poem that she had written out on a piece of paper. I don't know who wrote it-- because I've seen it before-- but it's beautiful.

Perhaps you know it. It goes like this:

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night,

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

mkcphotography said...

Allie, you reminded me to call my mom and tell her I love her. Thank you.

Valerie said...

What a wonderful, heartfelt post!