Laid down a loved one
into a grave 6 feet deep,
Only to be kept company by
cold dark earth;
while the beauty of nature resides
above, in a world undeserving of her.
Regrets of words unspoken,
lost within a selfish mind.
Speaking to his soul
in the calm sky.
Cries of sorrow, visions
of lost memories, simple things
that now mean much more.
Living trapped in a hole
deep in mind and heart.
Haunting forever,
with feelings of guilt.
Words never spoken
wanting back time
to live a moment, lost
That should have occurred
with his soul, while human.
Sandra Murdoch-Becker
Copyright © 2016
All Rights Reserved
Showing posts with label Hurt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hurt. Show all posts
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Monday, April 11, 2016
King of 22nd Street
The King of 22nd Street
stands idle in the rain.
A bottle in his right hand,
a cane in the left.
Collecting money on the corner,
to buy himself a crown.
Sitting to rest on a crate,
believed to be his throne.
He screams in the night,
"I'm the King of 22nd Street,
got a problem?
You have to answer to me."
The Kingdom turns their backs on him,
some sit and stare.
Lights go out,
22nd Street is bare.
The King bows his head,
tears streaming down his face.
He's down on his luck,
with a bottle of Jack,
lost in a world of pain.
Sandra Murdoch-Becker, Copyright 1994
stands idle in the rain.
A bottle in his right hand,
a cane in the left.
Collecting money on the corner,
to buy himself a crown.
Sitting to rest on a crate,
believed to be his throne.
He screams in the night,
"I'm the King of 22nd Street,
got a problem?
You have to answer to me."
The Kingdom turns their backs on him,
some sit and stare.
Lights go out,
22nd Street is bare.
The King bows his head,
tears streaming down his face.
He's down on his luck,
with a bottle of Jack,
lost in a world of pain.
Sandra Murdoch-Becker, Copyright 1994
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
For the Love of an Addict
To love an addict is the most emotionally draining relationship to carry.
Do you know one?
A family member, friend, spouse, or a co-worker?
Are you one?
What's your part in the relationship?
Maybe your lucky enough to be an audience member.
Fortunate, you only have to sit and pass your judgement on the act playing out in your distant vision.
Maybe you're the dealer or the drink provider, the devil himself.
Maybe you are simply the enabler who thinks they are helping, supporting.
The biggest question I ask myself multiple times a day is, "Am I enabling or supporting?".
I often wonder if they are one in the same.
Is it possible to even be supportive without enabling?
Everyone's perspective of it is different.
What one views as being supportive can be viewed by another as being the enabler, and so the opposite also holds true.
It's definitely a Catch 22.
It's been a life long controversy in my head.
I've never put it on paper, never talked about it with another human, and never asked about it.
Just sat and argued with myself in the corners of my day and cried.
I've been lectured about it, but never asked how I feel about it or how I've lived with it.
I've carried on many conversations with the rising sun and the night sky about it.
Their beauty never gave me answers but always lifted my soul for a moment or two.
It got me through many days.
The thought of my loved ones always in the back of my head.
Often wondering how did they even get here?
How do they not love themselves enough when they obviously have so many that love them?
I never understood it.
How could I? I'm not an addict. I'm the enabler. The supporter. The comforter.
The one who doesn't get it.
The one sitting on the outside.
It's a burden to love, just as the addiction is a burden.
I wasted so much time trying to understand their choices.
Trying to be in their heads.
I never even had the urge to try any of it, how could I understand it?
So much energy wasted on the wondering and the what if's!
It is heartbreaking to know they don't love....couldn't love themselves enough to quit.
Their lives incomplete without it.
Like the need for a cup of coffee or a good book.
The need for their poison more important than anything or anyone in the physical world.
Maybe they were just waiting for death to come knocking.
Trust me, I'm not judging. Just thinking it through.
Still wasting time on wondering.
It hurts on this side (in case you wondered).
I've been raging mad, brought to my knees with sadness and cried tears that didn't matter.
I've spend much time in exhaustive worry.
Scared of the worst images my mind could conjure.
Overwhelmed with feelings one should not have to feel.
Conquered by the fear.
There is no winning here.
People just don't talk about it.
So, we've warned our children.
It's a dominant force in our lives.
They all know it's there and it's a risk to make this choice.
It could engulf them.
Or, as it was with me, it may not be appealing.
I pray this to be true.
I pray for them eternally that they won't know.
That they won't be the addict.
That they won't have to know the duties of the supportive enabler.
I've watched addiction. I've watched recovery. They are both a fight that never ends.
Do you know one?
A family member, friend, spouse, or a co-worker?
Are you one?
What's your part in the relationship?
Maybe your lucky enough to be an audience member.
Fortunate, you only have to sit and pass your judgement on the act playing out in your distant vision.
Maybe you're the dealer or the drink provider, the devil himself.
Maybe you are simply the enabler who thinks they are helping, supporting.
The biggest question I ask myself multiple times a day is, "Am I enabling or supporting?".
I often wonder if they are one in the same.
Is it possible to even be supportive without enabling?
Everyone's perspective of it is different.
What one views as being supportive can be viewed by another as being the enabler, and so the opposite also holds true.
It's definitely a Catch 22.
It's been a life long controversy in my head.
I've never put it on paper, never talked about it with another human, and never asked about it.
Just sat and argued with myself in the corners of my day and cried.
I've been lectured about it, but never asked how I feel about it or how I've lived with it.
I've carried on many conversations with the rising sun and the night sky about it.
Their beauty never gave me answers but always lifted my soul for a moment or two.
It got me through many days.
The thought of my loved ones always in the back of my head.
Often wondering how did they even get here?
How do they not love themselves enough when they obviously have so many that love them?
I never understood it.
How could I? I'm not an addict. I'm the enabler. The supporter. The comforter.
The one who doesn't get it.
The one sitting on the outside.
I wasted so much time trying to understand their choices.
Trying to be in their heads.
I never even had the urge to try any of it, how could I understand it?
So much energy wasted on the wondering and the what if's!
It is heartbreaking to know they don't love....couldn't love themselves enough to quit.
Their lives incomplete without it.
Like the need for a cup of coffee or a good book.
The need for their poison more important than anything or anyone in the physical world.
Maybe they were just waiting for death to come knocking.
Trust me, I'm not judging. Just thinking it through.
Still wasting time on wondering.
It hurts on this side (in case you wondered).
I've been raging mad, brought to my knees with sadness and cried tears that didn't matter.
I've spend much time in exhaustive worry.
Scared of the worst images my mind could conjure.
Overwhelmed with feelings one should not have to feel.
Conquered by the fear.
There is no winning here.
People just don't talk about it.
So, we've warned our children.
It's a dominant force in our lives.
They all know it's there and it's a risk to make this choice.
It could engulf them.
Or, as it was with me, it may not be appealing.
I pray this to be true.
I pray for them eternally that they won't know.
That they won't be the addict.
That they won't have to know the duties of the supportive enabler.
I've watched addiction. I've watched recovery. They are both a fight that never ends.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Dance the Dance
The world is going to throw us situations that hurt us, anger us and sometimes knock us down. It's all in how we choose to dance the dance that makes the difference in how it affects us. Sometimes we can just feel it and let it go. Sometimes we feel it and hold on for a bit. Sometimes the dance is insanely long, drawn out and makes us hate the dance. The hate turns to resentment, bitterness and hardening of the heart. I've been here too many times to count. Too many times to waste my time trying to recall after all the time wasted in that state. It's a long trip back to loving the dance.
Right now, in this moment, I'm sad and just trying to dance through it with forgiveness. I'm trying really hard to dance this one with dignity and grace! I want the frustration to dissolve; my sense of calm to return. Unfortunately, I'm not dancing this one alone and we're all trying to stay in sync while dancing to a different tune. Each has his own steps to complete before the music ends and it's looking more like a mosh pit here than a ballet. Although mosh pits can be an adventure, I'm getting a little old for the chaos involved. Ahhh, but the chaos brings change, so bring on the mosh pit!
Right now, in this moment, I'm sad and just trying to dance through it with forgiveness. I'm trying really hard to dance this one with dignity and grace! I want the frustration to dissolve; my sense of calm to return. Unfortunately, I'm not dancing this one alone and we're all trying to stay in sync while dancing to a different tune. Each has his own steps to complete before the music ends and it's looking more like a mosh pit here than a ballet. Although mosh pits can be an adventure, I'm getting a little old for the chaos involved. Ahhh, but the chaos brings change, so bring on the mosh pit!
We'll dance the dance and be better parents, a better family because of it. I hope the others involved will see this. Next time we will dance with more compassion and understanding. I hope that everyone learns from it. I've never claimed to be perfect and never will. I have plenty of faults and mistakes that I have to dance through. I have learned however, that if I allow situations to exist without speaking up, the behaviors are reinforced. Not just by the originator of the circumstance, but by those that observed it.
So, dance the dance and do it with a smile, a sense of peace, forgiveness, thankfulness and love!
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Memories of the Birthday that Wasn't
I wrote this 2 years ago on my 40th Birthday and have added a couple of things, but for the most part, it remains the memories of an 11 year old, heart broken girl on her birthday.
29 years ago on my 11th birthday I was awoken to the news of my Grandma Murdoch's passing. As a child, I was torn on whether or not I should go to school. I did after all have candy to pass out. I decided to stay home and ate the candy myself. I don't recall if I shared it with my 4 brothers. More than likely not, since I don't have a memory of it. I was quite angry that my Grandmother chose my day to die. I couldn't imagine a more horrific reason to not want to celebrate my birthday ever again. Not to mention that the days following would have NOTHING to do with me. Quite a selfish little brat I was, huh? I recall lots of relatives appearing, family friends stopping by, the planning of the wake/funeral and wanting so badly to be a part, yet keeping to myself. I don't remember if there was a happy birthday sang or mom's famous chocolate sheet cake made. How could she do this to me? No more shopping trips or lunches out. No more movies (she introduced me to Little Orphan Annie and E.T.) or trips to Marshall Fields to visit her while she worked. They had the BEST chocolate cookies. No more spending the night, Halloween visits, or Christmas Eve dinners. No more Saturday evening masses sitting in the front pew or surprise visits to get me out of yard work that she felt the boys should be doing. No more Birthday PRESENTS! Well, apparently just one more! Someone appeared with a box (not sure what day) that contained a pair of purple knickers and a long sleeved white and purple shirt from, where else, Marshall Fields! She remembered (not sure if it really did come from her, but at the time it didn't matter)! Had she ever let me down? So it wasn't some great piece of heirloom jewelry (that didn't matter to an 11 year old), but I wore them with pride and confidence (and EVERYONE made fun of me)! Even after they had ripped and no longer fit I didn't want to let them go! It has not gotten easier to be without her these past 29 Birthdays. I still cry over her absence, my wedding especially hard. I walked down the aisle carrying a white hankie that my Aunt Barb purchased. The note with it read "In memory of someone who thought you were pretty special." We were able to get married at Old St. Mary's Church in Mokena where she is buried next to my Grandfather. We played Hail Mary, Gentle Woman during the wedding, a song from her funeral mass and placed flowers at her & Grandpa's grave. I know she has been here with me through it all, I couldn't have asked for a better Guardian Angel than God has given me. It took me some time to realize that her passing on my birthday was a gift and not a curse. She has brought me through a lot and the memories of Grandma curled in her chair with an afghan, a pop, her rosary and prayer book can bring a smile to my face whenever I need one. The emptiness of her absence will never cease, but knowing she was strong and happy during her years here does help. Her love is forever felt in my heart, especially today on my 40th Birthday!
The words I wrote as an 11 year old....
"Grandma." I say and I can't hear your voice or wipe away the pain.
I see you in my dreams,
I remember some days, good and bad,
When you were well and picked me up from school,
Or when you were sick, on a Sunday after church
We would come and visit you.
I will remember that day,
The sounds of everyones pain,
It hurt, It was my birthday.
You weren't there,
No celebrations I would have
There were more important things to tend to.
I felt privileged though, believe it or not,
But also, a little cheated
God chose a good day for you to die.
I cried, sometimes still do.
I remember your face
and that purple dress that covered up your neck.
I said good-bye,
One last time.
I miss you Grandma,
But I'll see you one day
Up there in paradise and hopefully,
you will look the same as I remember,
When I turned eleven,
On my Birthday,
The day God took you away!
This year would have been Grandma's 100th Birthday.
Copyright © 10/15/2011
Sandra Becker
29 years ago on my 11th birthday I was awoken to the news of my Grandma Murdoch's passing. As a child, I was torn on whether or not I should go to school. I did after all have candy to pass out. I decided to stay home and ate the candy myself. I don't recall if I shared it with my 4 brothers. More than likely not, since I don't have a memory of it. I was quite angry that my Grandmother chose my day to die. I couldn't imagine a more horrific reason to not want to celebrate my birthday ever again. Not to mention that the days following would have NOTHING to do with me. Quite a selfish little brat I was, huh? I recall lots of relatives appearing, family friends stopping by, the planning of the wake/funeral and wanting so badly to be a part, yet keeping to myself. I don't remember if there was a happy birthday sang or mom's famous chocolate sheet cake made. How could she do this to me? No more shopping trips or lunches out. No more movies (she introduced me to Little Orphan Annie and E.T.) or trips to Marshall Fields to visit her while she worked. They had the BEST chocolate cookies. No more spending the night, Halloween visits, or Christmas Eve dinners. No more Saturday evening masses sitting in the front pew or surprise visits to get me out of yard work that she felt the boys should be doing. No more Birthday PRESENTS! Well, apparently just one more! Someone appeared with a box (not sure what day) that contained a pair of purple knickers and a long sleeved white and purple shirt from, where else, Marshall Fields! She remembered (not sure if it really did come from her, but at the time it didn't matter)! Had she ever let me down? So it wasn't some great piece of heirloom jewelry (that didn't matter to an 11 year old), but I wore them with pride and confidence (and EVERYONE made fun of me)! Even after they had ripped and no longer fit I didn't want to let them go! It has not gotten easier to be without her these past 29 Birthdays. I still cry over her absence, my wedding especially hard. I walked down the aisle carrying a white hankie that my Aunt Barb purchased. The note with it read "In memory of someone who thought you were pretty special." We were able to get married at Old St. Mary's Church in Mokena where she is buried next to my Grandfather. We played Hail Mary, Gentle Woman during the wedding, a song from her funeral mass and placed flowers at her & Grandpa's grave. I know she has been here with me through it all, I couldn't have asked for a better Guardian Angel than God has given me. It took me some time to realize that her passing on my birthday was a gift and not a curse. She has brought me through a lot and the memories of Grandma curled in her chair with an afghan, a pop, her rosary and prayer book can bring a smile to my face whenever I need one. The emptiness of her absence will never cease, but knowing she was strong and happy during her years here does help. Her love is forever felt in my heart, especially today on my 40th Birthday!
The words I wrote as an 11 year old....
"Grandma." I say and I can't hear your voice or wipe away the pain.
I see you in my dreams,
I remember some days, good and bad,
When you were well and picked me up from school,
Or when you were sick, on a Sunday after church
We would come and visit you.
I will remember that day,
The sounds of everyones pain,
It hurt, It was my birthday.
You weren't there,
No celebrations I would have
There were more important things to tend to.
I felt privileged though, believe it or not,
But also, a little cheated
God chose a good day for you to die.
I cried, sometimes still do.
I remember your face
and that purple dress that covered up your neck.
I said good-bye,
One last time.
I miss you Grandma,
But I'll see you one day
Up there in paradise and hopefully,
you will look the same as I remember,
When I turned eleven,
On my Birthday,
The day God took you away!
This year would have been Grandma's 100th Birthday.
Copyright © 10/15/2011
Sandra Becker
Sunday, April 14, 2013
The Reunion
I never put much stock in the number that is my age. Hitting 30 and even 40 never concerned me too awful much. After all, you only become a day older than you were the day before your birthday. Your age is just a number and cannot measure the life you live. However, death is a different story! Two losses in the last week have hit me pretty hard. This has left me pondering, as those numbers keep adding up, the age of those around me are also adding up. Unfortunately with every passing second comes the chance meeting with death, for all ages. Acceptance of age is one thing. Acceptance of death, a whole different thing!
With death comes sorrow and all the thoughts of the should haves and would haves. I can honestly say that the only regret I have with the recent loss in our family is that I wish we had more time to visit. I feel very blessed with what time we did have. Very blessed that my Uncle Fritz was able to visit this past summer with Aunt Becky for our Miller Family Reunion. I will treasure the time they spent here! The memories are forever and bring some contentment at this time! These memories of Uncle Fritz will mean everything with each passing day! The heartbreak is never easy and it is always helpful to have the support of family friends while grieving.
As prayers & condolences flooded FaceBook after Uncle Fritz's passing on Friday night, there were many words that brought peace. Unfortunately, no words could take away the sorrow. When my Uncle Jim posted yesterday, there was a barrage of condolences on his status, but one in particular stopped my flood of tears and actually brought a smile to my face. One comment that made me stop and rethink death all together! I don't know this person, but credit is due to Dinah Torres-Quinones (a friend of Uncle Jim's) for the following words she wrote:
What an incredible, faithful thought! We all say when someone dies "Some day we will see them in Heaven", but how many of us look forward to it? We anticipate life events like a graduation, marriage, family get togethers or the birth of a baby. How many of us anticipate the reunion in heaven? Why not?
Ultimately, our faith is suppose to prepare us for the journey to our death. This life was never the true goal that God set for us. Our earthly life is to live faithfully, to learn and give of ourselves for the benefit of others. To HELP those less fortunate. We are here as preparation for eternal life in Heaven. This life tests us on a constant basis and when God calls us, we go! So now, as Dinah said, we have a reunion to look forward to, with Uncle Fritz and so many others that God has called along the way!
(As it turns out, Dinah shares her words of wisdom in a blog. Check it out here:
http://dinahsdailydose.wordpress.com/)
With death comes sorrow and all the thoughts of the should haves and would haves. I can honestly say that the only regret I have with the recent loss in our family is that I wish we had more time to visit. I feel very blessed with what time we did have. Very blessed that my Uncle Fritz was able to visit this past summer with Aunt Becky for our Miller Family Reunion. I will treasure the time they spent here! The memories are forever and bring some contentment at this time! These memories of Uncle Fritz will mean everything with each passing day! The heartbreak is never easy and it is always helpful to have the support of family friends while grieving.
As prayers & condolences flooded FaceBook after Uncle Fritz's passing on Friday night, there were many words that brought peace. Unfortunately, no words could take away the sorrow. When my Uncle Jim posted yesterday, there was a barrage of condolences on his status, but one in particular stopped my flood of tears and actually brought a smile to my face. One comment that made me stop and rethink death all together! I don't know this person, but credit is due to Dinah Torres-Quinones (a friend of Uncle Jim's) for the following words she wrote:
"I
have prayed for your brother and his family and am so sorry to hear that
he has passed. I pray now that you will all find comfort in your
wonderful memories and in a truth I hold on to daily after my father
passed, Fritz is not in your past but instead
he has transitioned into your future! What a glorious reunion in
heaven to look forward to. May your family be surrounded by the sweet
presence of the Holy Spirit and in time that your mourning be turned to
joy."
What an incredible, faithful thought! We all say when someone dies "Some day we will see them in Heaven", but how many of us look forward to it? We anticipate life events like a graduation, marriage, family get togethers or the birth of a baby. How many of us anticipate the reunion in heaven? Why not?
Ultimately, our faith is suppose to prepare us for the journey to our death. This life was never the true goal that God set for us. Our earthly life is to live faithfully, to learn and give of ourselves for the benefit of others. To HELP those less fortunate. We are here as preparation for eternal life in Heaven. This life tests us on a constant basis and when God calls us, we go! So now, as Dinah said, we have a reunion to look forward to, with Uncle Fritz and so many others that God has called along the way!
(As it turns out, Dinah shares her words of wisdom in a blog. Check it out here:
http://dinahsdailydose.wordpress.com/)
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Psalm 34:18)
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