Dear Grieving Friend,
I know you’re up with me tonight,
staring at the ceiling,
wondering if it will ever end.
I know you’re reminding yourself to keep on breathing;
Hand on your abdomen to make sure it is so.
I know your mind is replaying all you could have done: Words said, calls made;
If you only knew…The lengths you would have run…
I know you grieve the marriage you planned,
the way the stockings hung…
The child that you felt kicking you;
How people said “Maybe that baby just wasn’t your one.”
I read what is behind the things you post,
and how they’re a silent plea;
“Please see my pain, please care about it,
please SOMEONE come alongside me.”
I pick up your loneliness and I wear it on my shoulders, in a constant backpack.
I can’t always come.
I can’t always be.
Please know it’s not desire I lack.
I hope you know that when your pet dies,
I imagine stroking it on my lap, and I cry over it, too.
I need you to truly know that.
Your whispered prayers are repeated by me.
I carry your wails to God.
I wear them, and shift them around in my arms.
I beg you protected from any further harm,
because your life,
your being,
your cares matter to me.
Once you’re mine, you’re mine without end.
I love you.
I hear you.
I’m in your darkness with you,
My dear,
held-close-to-me,
grieving friend.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
