I witnessed your first breath,
kissed away your first tears,
and cradled your head
against my breast
that you could draw my first milk.
Why must I now weep over your final gasps
and flood your bed
with my tears
as I cradle your weakened frame
against my breast,
dried and unable to sustain you?
kissed away your first tears,
and cradled your head
against my breast
that you could draw my first milk.
Why must I now weep over your final gasps
and flood your bed
with my tears
as I cradle your weakened frame
against my breast,
dried and unable to sustain you?
Five years ago this month, on a snowy day, a dear friend lost his battle with cancer. As much as I mourned my own loss I thought his mother's must have been so much greater. It's simply not the natural order of things to outlive your child. The February snows often make me pause and remember both him and his mother as I say a prayer hoping her heart is eased somehow.
My grandfather outlived two of his eight children. It was a very sad thing to witness. Sorry about your friend, Lime.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem Lime
ReplyDeleteYou're correct; it's not right. Very sad.
ReplyDeleteI just couldn't imagine.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem.
One Single Impression - Insomnia
It is a lovely poem. Eight years ago I would have thought it moving. Now that I have children of my own, it's practically unreadable.
ReplyDeleteA heartrending poem you have here...
ReplyDeleteThis April will be three years since my birth-mother's adopted daughter died, and I can still hear the sadness in her voice, and her husband's. . .
ReplyDeleteI will say a prayer for your friend's mother. You're right; it's simply not the natural order of things to outlive your child. . .
Thanks Trini...
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful and heart wrenching!
You are one of the best...Galen
Has it really been 5 years? Wow.
ReplyDeleteSo sweet that you honour this friend every year.
:)
Heartbreaking. I would not survive.
ReplyDeleteI think there is no grief greater than losing your child. I can't imagine.
ReplyDeleteI hear these anniversaries can be especially difficult. My God provide the comfort she needs.
ReplyDeletenicely written...heavy with emotion...could not imagine...great 55.
ReplyDeletemine i sup.
Someone very close to me lost a child on the 18th February 19 years ago this year. These same thoughts have been coming to me recently. They always do around this time.
ReplyDeleteNice post, Michelle!
Hauntingly beautiful words. I could not imagine...
ReplyDeleteOhhh what a cold and lonely month to pass...especially if you are young.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother just died but she was 96. One of her children died before her. That is always hard.
Nope. I simply CAN NOT imagine it. Can't.
ReplyDeleteMy parents lost my sister (I was not born yet) when she was 9. I still can't imagine it.
Very well said.
ReplyDeleteA dear friend of mine just lost her 16yr. old nephew to cancer. This post makes it all the more poignant.
ReplyDeleteThis is so touching beautiful...
ReplyDeleteIt's an unbearable thought. Yet you honour this child with your lovely poem. I'm sorry for this unthinkable loss.
ReplyDeleteSo tenderly expressed, with insight and love. I can't imagine the heartbreak of losing a child.
ReplyDeleteOh, how I caught my breathe. Your tribute is so tender and powerful.
ReplyDeleteAs a mother to five, I can't even think about the dark corner of that possibility.
prayers for your friend's mother.
and for your loss as well.
I can't even.
ReplyDeleteThink.
Comment.
Imagine.
Lime, I'm very sorry for your loss although the expression of it is beautiful.
ReplyDelete--snow
p.s. (I was almost scared to read this because I was terrified you had lost one of your Limelettes.)