Tag Archives: Grief

He Is Gone

A sad story from Glenys that has moved me greatly this morning:

lifecameos

She rang me from her home
at the far end of the country.

“He is not here,” she said.

“Is he in the hospice ?” I asked.

“They take me to see him
at the hospice every day.”

She said no  more
did not answer me
hung up.

I wrote to her instead.

_______________________

She rang me from her home
at the far end of the country.

“He is …. he is …. ” she said.

“I am so sorry  he is gone,”
I replied.

I persuaded her to tell me
who stayed with her
who cared for her.

The small private funeral
he requested spared her
much distress.

They are helping her
supporting her at home.

But he is gone.

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Watercolour time

Watercolour time

Wet brush blurs, lets colours bleed into the next
Time is a wet brush, bleeding memories, blurring grief
Until the pain of loss is subdued
Not single primary colour
But smoothed, mixed, melted
Not quite there, but never lost
Still in the picture but not the focus
Only the truly obsessed, vengeful, bereft
Or those whose culture encourages vendetta
Can support impasto grief over the years
Most of us accept the damp brush of time
As a comfort
Of sorts

Copyright © 2017  Kim Whysall-Hammond

“Time works like a damp brush on water color. The sharp edges blur, the ache goes out of it, the colors melt together”  –John Steinbeck, East of Eden.