Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Today I Cried, Once More



Just when I thought all my tears have dried - today I cried once more. I cried for the time together we have lost, and for the time we'll never have. The tears came quite unexpectedly. I awoke today feeling no different than yesterday. Nothing to make me feel more nostalgic ... I thought. Perhaps, the holidays have spoken to me. Quietly deep within - perhaps my mind carried on an internal dialog so secret, even my conscious self wasn't aware. I cried once more for the parents I had lost; and as I write this, tears threaten to fall again. Why would tears for lost parents be so foreign? You see, I didn't lose my parents just last month, or even last year. My parents have been gone for many years. I'm a middle age woman in my late forties. I lost my mom in 1997, and my dad I lost at the tender age of thirteen. Oh, how I still miss them. I think sometimes I miss them more now, then I did in recent years. I yearn for the guidance which only parents can provide. For comfort one can only find within a parent's words or arms. I understand now that it doesn't matter what had happened in the past. During the years of my youth, my parents were still growing up in so many ways - more ways than I could have ever realized, until I started growing older.

I watch others, especially those my age or older, interacting with their parents. I wonder, Do they truly know how fortunate they are to still have their parents? They can still go to them when they need to talk, call them when they need a word of reassurance, and gaze into their eyes to feel the security and comfort of one who can truly understand them. One who yearns to help them achieve to be the best person they can be - without judgement.

I don't envy those who still have their parents. I just ache for the years I have not had mine. I ache for the times when I long to speak to them. The times when I know that it's the only two people in the world, who could understand what I'm going through, what I'm feeling deep within. The only two who could help comfort me at those certain times. At other times, I have the thought, If you could have just hung on a little longer, Mom, we could have helped each other so much. I would have taken you into my home, and you would have never had to work for another thing! You could of finally had rest and peace. As for my father, it is who I received my writing ability and creativity. He was an artist and a poet.

He wrote this poem to comfort me, when I was hospitalized and hallucinating from a severe illness: 

Come lite on my hand, my little butterfly
And I will build you a nest of sticks, stones,
Sunshine and happiness.

Now Spread your wings, my dainty one,
And fly without fright, For my army of love,
Will protect you through the days and nights.


He wrote many beautiful poems and had a book in hardcover, ready to be published, before he had a major heart-attack. He never regained enough strength to finish quite a few things he had in the works, before the heart-attack would lead to his death, a year later. A few years after he died, the preventative cure which would have kept him alive was released to the public. So once again, I find myself saying, If you could have just hung on a little longer...

But God was ready for them, He opened His arms and welcomed them home, into a home of rest. Into a home where they no longer feel pain, physically or emotionally.

So this morning when tears came for the first time in a few years, it caught me by surprise. I didn't have just a few single tears, no; I cried once more for my mom and dad. And as I cried, I yearned for the comfort of their arms. "God, please wrap your arms around me and bring me comfort and peace."

And as I felt a warm embrace, tears fell once more. I wrapped my arms around my body, and with a smile I spoke aloud, "Thank you, Lord for being my Heavenly Father and when I need it most, my Earthly Daddy." *Heart*



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