Epilogue (2)

in 2006

my life slipped

downside

downer

~

within 3 months

I held my stillborn son

my dad died of cancer

I was charged with assault

~

grief

guilt

shame

digging my core

scraping regrets

dragging bones

spiralling

new

low

~

admittance

nervous breakdown

psychosis

psychiatric ward

~

I’m nobody

I’m everybody

another voiceless number

without earth / geo sans

longing for a role

wishing for a place

longing for belonging

wishing

for

maybe

~

thankfully

my wife and I were committed

to loving

each other

~

carrying boulders

harrowing descending spirals

plowing parellel lines

together

~

love

was our only

guide

~

time

we promised

would never

erode us

~

we withered

we cried

we hid

we lied

~

we’ll

be

okay

~

In 2009

our daughter

was born

~

nine days later

my wife

suffered a heart attack

~

thankfully

she survived

but her / our

healing process

was new / now

again

~

our daughter

protected us

held us together

gave us meaning

strength

~

she was

our guide

our light

our love

~

writing

this past year

I’ve sorted through moments

images

new / old poems

~

I’ll never truly understand

what I’ve gone through

~

and

maybe

that is

okay

~

ceremony / 1

ceremony / 2

ceremony_3

ceremony / 4

98 thoughts on “Epilogue (2)

  1. A candid, sincere and visceral piece, perfectly encapsulating the turmoil of grief, and the clarity of love. Sometimes we can’t understand – sometimes, we just have to write, and purge the suffering in cascades of ink. Sometimes we just have to struggle on – wounded, but unbowed, cherishing and embracing each glimmer of light upon our path.

  2. I think that your ending is quite correct … I’m not sure we can ever understand what we’ve been through … especially the “why?” But, it is ok. It’s life. And you’re still here, with a wife, a daughter, and lots of love– which is about as good as it gets.

    I’ve enjoyed reading about your journey, your heartbreaks and triumphs… I’m happy that you’re still here, sharing your mind, heart, soul …

    I admire your courage, your honesty, and your beautiful words very much. Thanks for letting me share in your healing journey.

    Peace, my friend.

  3. If you are writing this now
    you have come round the other end…

    that sweet equilibrium

    when having lost our self
    we begin to recognize who we are
    by who we have been

    continually becoming
    in
    love

    Much affection for you and yours…xxoo
    Jana

  4. Shattering events, what comments can one make, your words so sincere and earth shaking, can only leave me to ponder on the beauty that life can be, on the horror that life can be, and wish for you and your family serenity and love.

  5. Pingback: Choka: life | Bastet and Sekhmet

  6. You’ve battled and deflected perdition. When you longed for a role, you already had one. *You* are a guide, light, and love. I am warmed you are being deservedly kind… to yourself. Does analyzing or understanding really serve a purpose? Just be. You will always heal because of who (those who care for you believe) you are.

  7. Your words inspire me, though I have felt/feel such grief, I am hopeful that one day, soon. I too will feel whole, again. Thank you for sharing yourself with us. – M

  8. You’ve been through so much Geo!! :neutral: I met a lady yesterday that was in that ‘storm’ of everything happening at once, people getting sick, dying and cracking up, and now she had finally cracked herself. There wasn’t much I could do, other than share my own past hell, and convey understanding of that terrible time, and sometimes that’s all someone needs at that moment, another to reveal this happens to us all at some points in our lives. But it’s alarming just how much can come crashing down on us all at once! But to survive that, at least you know much more about yourself, and how strong you are, and your family too. And poetry, in fact, any kind of writing is not only therapeutic, but reveals so many things that would otherwise be forgotten. :)

  9. Sounds like you are on solid ground now, Geo Sans, so the name is a bit ironic. I never knew the whole story (I still don’t), but I am inspired by your honesty, your perseverance, your vulnerability, your love, your compassion, your strength, your creativity, your being. Now more than ever, I want to meet you in person someday—maybe at the arranged marriage of our kids. :)
    You are a role model for me and men/husbands/fathers in general. Thank you. {{{Hugs]}} kozo

  10. Wow, and oh my gosh.

    Well done you for crawling back to a good place. I know, I do know it takes strength and grit.

    A stillborn child would be so so hard to come to terms with. I really can’t imagine it. I wish you the best.

    • doing very well
      thank you
      for checking on me
      ~
      my little brother
      was recently married
      amazing moments
      with family
      ~
      I’ve read 3 great books
      the little prince (de saint-exupéry)
      the sentimentalists (skibsrud)
      love, dishonor, marry, die, cherish, perish (rakoff)
      ~
      also been
      editing
      my poems
      http://wp.me/p31H7s-Dx

  11. I am not able to get online much lately, because of similar events to what you have described above. My daughter has been my saving grace and kept me afloat… Life can be harsh at times, but then I try to remember all the Blessings I have also been given. Glad you sound happy now! Love your work, when I’m able to have time to read! Blessings ~
    :D

  12. Oh my Gosh! That was heart rending. An epilogue of life it seemed at first, and then a message of hope and relief. Your words made me jump and start as I danced down the page. The format only added to the vibrancy of your words, and seemed to add dramatic tension.

  13. Thank you for sharing part of you and your experiences. I feel you’ve moved forward if you can write beautifully about all you’ve been through. Love does conquer and may you and your family continue to heal with love’s guiding light…this post truly tugged at my heart..

  14. my friend, this is one of the most amazing things I have read in a long long time. how honest, and heartbreaking. you are amazing! keep telling these stories, not only do you heal, but others heal as well

    this is simply the best !!
    let me try
    heal
    hope
    beauty
    from

    pain….

    keep going my friend

  15. It’s been nearly a year since you first posted this … and it is still a powerful piece.

    I think the only important thing to understand is that you’re still here, maybe with a few more scars … but, you’re here; and you’ve got a beautiful family, and they love you. “Understanding” is just a reason to live in the past … and, while there’s no reason to forget the past … the present and the future are where you need to be.

    I’m honored to have been along on your journey. Your words have touched me in more ways than you know.

  16. i love this piece, real life poetry, i find in my own poetry to write similarly….

    Thanks for sharing.

  17. My husband says life is like a Pez dispenser filled with problems. As one problem spits out the next one loads in the empty space. I believe there is a Pez dispenser for solutions too. We make a good team. I’m glad you have someone to help you through. Oh, and by the way – thanks for the insightful poem.

  18. I read this again and still tear up, Geo. What you’ve been through no one should have to experience but I’m still so grateful that you and your wife let love be the glue to keep you together with your daughter. Sometimes, the answer just never surfaces but moving forward is the only and best direction. Your life experiences turn into beautiful poetry. Thanks again for sharing…♥

    • my wife is currently
      undergoing EMDR therapy
      and it is helping her
      ~
      her amygdala
      was swollen from trauma
      fight and flight triggering
      excessive fear and anxiety
      ~
      we’re working
      towards
      floating where we are
      being
      in peace

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