Remember when I said lies? ‘Cause we aren’t talking about drugs. But drugs are sexy and they make you want to click on over here and read my drivel. To bad the rest of my post isn’t as sexy as the drugs in the title! Sucka!
Right then, I had a point, no? Oh, yeah, lies. The little white ones we tell, ex-pecially “I’m fine.” It has occurred to me lately that while I am happier than I have ever been, and I lurves the shiz out of being Lil G’s mama, I still have a hurt for my angels. It’s been there so long that I kind of got used to it. It used to feel like shards of broken glass in my heart. Now it’s more dull, more healed over, less sharp. But still there. Always there. So, with this on my mind, the following poem really hit home with me today… I got it from Egghunt, who got it from a credit-less source. If you are that source, please come get your credit. I am so not trying to claim this as my own.
My Mom, she tells a lot of lies, She never did before. But from now until she dies, …She’ll tell a whole lot more.
Ask my Mom how she is and because she can’t explain, She will tell a little lie Because she can’t describe the pain.
Ask my Mom how she is, She’ll say “I’m alright.” If that’s the truth, then tell me, why does she cry each night ?
Ask my Mom how she is, She seems to cope so well. She didn’t have a choice you see, Nor the strength to yell.
Ask my Mom how she is, “I’m fine, I’m well, I’m coping.” For God’s sake Mom, just tell the truth, Just say your heart is broken.
She’ll love me all her life, I loved her all of mine. But if you ask her how she is, She’ll lie and say she’s fine.
I am Here in Heaven. I cannot hug her from here. If she lies to you don’t listen, Hug her and hold her near.
On the day we meet again, We’ll smile and I’ll be bold. I’ll say, “You’re lucky to get in here, Mom, With all the lies you told!”
I love what Michele wrote about the grief and how it becomes part of you, but you find a way to be happy, too. And that’s the truth, I’d have never believed this was possible a year ago and especially not right after Bean died, but right now I am a grieving mother and a happy mother. I have dead babies and a living baby. Michele’s words of wisdom, for any who missed them on her blog…
Do we one day work it out? Does the grief go away? Will she be back to normal? As I shook my head, I typed into the chat window. “No, you never are that person again. You’re a mother now. You have a new normal, and, one day, that grief will become a part of you and you will smile again.”