A single soul’s cry
No one can hear it!
A single soul’s cry
No one can hear it!
Today I learned about two deaths in the family. One, was taken by the virus we are all fearing these day and the other passed in an accident.
She was full of the kind of ganas that few people have for life and living. I do not think I ever saw her without a wide and beautiful contagious smile. She survived cancer twice and those scares gave her the courageous to take on this deadly virus called COVID 19. She fought it as long as she could and passed away all alone. This is the first close up and personal case I have heard of among friends and family members.
I been thinking a lot about the AFTERLIFE and what is is that happens when we leave this dimension. I have been thinking of the family members who have passed on, some for decades now. I think about these things not to be morbid or obsessive but because I suppose numbers matter and as of yesterday 138.000 souls are somewhere on another plane. Some not able to say goodbye to their loved ones.
So I did what I always do I write to alleviate the pain and to help me cope with the reality we are all facing this year. We will all know someone who knew someone with COVID and who lost the fight. It is worse when the person is someone in the family.
The other family member was younger, full of dreams. A former military man returning from a final tour. He had just relocated and was looking forward to a new job. His mother visited him this week to help him get organized and all moved into his new house. He went out to get take out and five minutes later he was killed instantly in a vehicle accident. A drunk driver impacted his motorcycle.
Two people died two days apart. One never imagined what destiny had planned. The other although on a ventilator hoped she would make it. But once again hope and praying just did not seem to be enough.
Here is my poem to help family deal with these horrible events. if you have been coping with a similar situation please share your thoughts. I always love to get your feedback. Please stay safe.
How Many More?
A rhetorical question, maybe.
Sadness stared me right in the face last night.
I could feel the heartache and pain from far away.
Grief and sorrow walked down two different paths;
Each taking a loved one to a place where forever is a stay.
Sorrow never stands alone.
Woe wails loud and clear,
when sadness comes with the loss of someone dear.
Grief pierces our hearts and I wonder if it even cares.
We can only hope that death is not proud of what it does.
How many more?
Only God knows.
In the meantime, let us remember them all
and pray that their memories are blessings.
I had a very profound dream about the afterlife and it reminded me I had written this poem which is somewhat related. I am now sitting in front of my computer writing about the dream.
There is only one life to live
Sometimes, the one you get
is too short or so it seems.
People say all the time
They do not have time for it all
Or they ask
Where has time gone?
If this is happening to you
Just put it off until the next life
I am not sure we are guaranteed
A second existence
But just in case
It won’t hurt to plan for one
It will be better
You will have time to plan ahead
Kind of a bucket list in the reverse
Or it could just be
these are the things I did not have time to do list
In reality I never made time to be me
I became a whole lot of other people
So, now that I know
I will not be able to do it all just in this one life
These are the…
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This poem is my cry for hope and forgiveness. I watched the news report tonight and it spattered the photograph of a father and his infant child drowned trying to cross the border. I do not know his name. I do not know how old he was. I do not and cannot understand what went through his mind when he decides to take such a risk with his young daughter. It must have been sheer desperation. My heart broke. I thought about my youngest grandchild and how she would have wrapped her arms around her father to feel safe in a situation like that. But it is really unimaginable. How cruel life can be. How sad life can be. I hope her mother finds solace. I hope their deaths will not have been in vain.
A picture says it all
I could not look at it though
instead I saw
a tragedy so cruel
for a young father
hoping to reach
the promise the land of the free
the land of the brave
with his young child
confident his strength
would protect her like always.
but nature and fate
maybe some filtered hate
drove the river wild
and out of control.
The picture no one wants to look at
says more than a thousand words.
It broke my heart in a million pieces.
The following is a haiku from a collection I have been working on for my next publication.
Please read and provide feedback and comments,
My soul told me when
it leaves my body the
view will astonish
I have been away from the writing board for a few weeks now. Sadly my beloved father-in-law passed away and we had to go and help with so much that is required after a death.
My father-in-law was my father. I lost my dad many years ago and he began to fill in that gap slowly but surely with much love as my father would have done. I relied on him for advice, his mentoring and a fatherly hug when I needed one. He will be missed.
My son delivered a very emotional eulogy depicting his grandfather as a noble family man. As I listened to him I heard my husband’s, my dad’s and my father-in-law’s voices all in one. My son had learned well their collective teachings. He never met my father but I had shared so many of his stories that my son got to know him well. I was so proud of him.
I learned a lot about life these past few years as I watched and listened to my father-in-law deal with his illness. I have learned to appreciate so many things more now. The little things especially. It is amazing how many of the mourners remembered precisely the short encounters with my father-in-law. Many close friends characterized their memorable experiences as seeming insignificant to anyone else but themselves. They emphasized how some of these events (mostly acts of kindness) had changed their lives. But now more than ever the family swelled with pride to know how he made a difference in so many people’s lives.
His legacy will carry on through my son and daughter and hopefully my grandchildren. We are what we do. A life is the sum of the great things we do for others. This was the best lesson of all. He served during World War II, he loved his country with great passion and cherished his wife of 70 years and his entire family. Rest in peace Don Will, you did well.
Failure to achieve something in life can be devastating sometimes. I was thinking about failure. There are some things that we cannot help of course. Sometimes failure is inevitable. We have little control over nature; often it seems like it needs to fail us or disappoint us. We may not understand how someone can deceive and fail us when we most need support and compassion. As human beings we fail each other all the time. We fail our children many times. We fail to love each other unconditionally. We fail to forgive. We fail to open our hearts. We fail to think before we speak and hurt someone deeply. We fail to keep the peace.
The following is a poem I wrote about failure. I wrote it soon after my sister passed away from heart failure.
I Hate Failure!
The baby steps we made
are now giant footprints
leading to mass destruction.
I Hate Failure!
We do not do more to help.
I Hate Failure!
We do not do enough,
to do enough,
to snuff out
and all the BAD stuff there is to snuff.
to dance the rumba last night.
to make her chuckle
one last time.
The stars failed to show up
when she made her last wish.
I Hate Failure!
She never knew
how precious she was
to all of us.
The Bugle Call
It is a melancholy,
yet a comforting sound,
a sobering Call
that announces the fall
of a gentle warrior:
a brave soul,
perhaps too young,
to know how finite,
the summons will be.
I hear that song again
repeating an inquisitive lyric
“War, what is good for?”
My response is always the same.
I wonder about him
all the time
that Unknown soldier
and the one I knew well too
who chose to be remembered
the next to last day in May,
waiting to be lifted
his last wish comes true.
In Memory of my nephew Ivan.
Someone once said,
“it’s not the numbers that count
it’s what happens
at the dash.”
The question is
what to do
so that life
and well spent.
by Melba Christie
She “combated sadness ferociously”
with her paint brush
her most faithful companion
life reveals itself
mirrors reflect the surreal
and reality confronts her in the raw
but does not share the pain and anguish
deep inside she tries to draw
She is the courageous onlooker
But is not as courageous as she thinks
as far as she is concerned
it all stinks.
She fought in an eternal war
between light and darkness
fidelity and infidelity
truth and untruth
justice and injustice
Frida’s paintings haunt us
and make us more aware
We now watch the mirror that truly sees our soul
and reflects the still life on the table ( perhaps not as still)
as we continue to search for the stillness we so need
Did Frida realize that she planted a seed?
She showed us life
and how surreal it really is.
Life released, free
to fly without a care
barefoot in the grass
Today is the 50th anniversary of the death of Marilyn Monroe. After all these years her life and death fascinates some folks including myself. I was only __ at the time; I (rather not give my age away) was very young. I really didn’t understand what the fuss was all about at the time. But as years passed I remember hearing about all the investigations and implications about her death at the age of 39.
I remember watching most of her movies in the company of my father who adored her as did many men and women from all over the world. My mother loved her too. She would always say Marilyn was “una belleza natural” and how she and Clark Gable made a nice couple.
My older sister still collects her memorabilia. So the fascination runs in the family. As I grew older I was intrigued to read more about the so called theories about how she died. But then again many Americans wanted to unravel the mystery surrounding her death. She was like the girl next door. I do not think that anyone wanted to believe that America’s sweetheart would ever think about suicide. This is a subject not too many people like to talk about or even think about. I became aware of what suicide was very early in life and so Marilyn became to represent the question everyone wants answered when someone like her decides to end it all.
I remember Joe DiMaggio’s homage to her as he made sure that a dozen roses were delivered to her tomb three times a week for many years to come. I was a teenager when I first realized that Joe DiMaggio manifested his love for her that way. It was heart-warming and so romantic to me. Then years later Elton John writes a song about the famed actress and these lyrics resound in my head and remind me not only about Norma Jean but about the loved one I lost to the same kind of lonely pain that resulted in suicide.
“And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did”
I cannot believe that 50 years have passed. I remember the Life magazine my dad brought home with her beautiful face on the cover that read Memories of Marilyn. Although it is a cliché to say, but it does seem like this was only yesterday. Her legend is still alive and I want to dedicate my post to her today and to all those who have had such deep emotional pain in their lives that they would take their lives. As a society we have to face the facts about suicide in this country.
Photos by Melba Christie
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