Tag Archives: mother

The Disappointment by The Blyssful Witch

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This is so Damned true.

Psalms

The Disappointment

Am I what you wanted, Mother?
A shining daughter of the meadow’s delight?
I fear not, I am a mass of scars
A tiny bone-yard,
Rattling the wretched night.

I am sorry to disappoint, fair one
I was not what you had hoped.
No sweet songs of childish innocence
Will now escape this strangled throat.

I was never pretty enough
Or witty or clever or shy
For I spoke my mind and had my way
Through many battles, you and I.

Until one day, you’d had enough
My life you took from me
Those delicate fingers wrapped ‘round my throat
And shook my final breath free.

I will torment you til the end, fair one
Your disappointment finally complete
When the Grave swallows your shallow soul
And vomits it back at my feet.

For I am always your daughter
A dark thorn in your ivory side
I will pursue you til the accursed end
For even in Hell, you cannot hide.

I am the Daughter of Disappointment
I am the Spawn of the Evil Night
In my revenge, finally like you, Mother
A mirror image, glowing bright.

Words: The Blyssful Witch, Copyright ©2000-2014

Life is Short

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The stroke was unexpected and sudden. His wife rushed him to the hospital after he vomited all over himself. As he lay in the hospital waiting treatment, he drifted into a coma. He was a hemophiliac. Did I know? No I did not.

Those are the words I remember at the wake I went to yesterday of a friend I knew since I was a child. He passed away this past Friday because the stroke severed an important communique in the brain. The part that tells your brain when to eat and breathe.

He lay in a coma for two months then on Friday when is body gave out he passed.

My friend is Chinese. I had never been to a Chinese wake. Upon entering I could hear the Amitoufo chant. If you are not familiar with this Buddha, he is the Buddha of Light and Life. He comes for you and brings you to the Pure Land when you pass. The wake  is very much like Christian wakes but if you were Chinese you were asked to light incense and bow three times. Those who were non-Chinese where told where to walk to view the body. The family rolled paper tubes with silver and gold on it and threw them into a small fire furnace. This was to release his spirit into the great beyond.

As I walked up to the casket, he was unrecognizable. All the plumpness had evaporated into thin leather skin. The make up helped make him look like he was sleeping. But not really. He lay in a  beautiful coffin in mahogany red and he was in an impeccable suit and tie. Of course the coffin was in the customary half open from the hips up and closed from the hips down. Much like a flat dutch door. An easel with a picture of him healthy and casual. He was always casual. This was the first time I saw him dressed up.

The eulogy was said by a Chinese officiant and a born again Christian man who my friend worked with. The words were of how he was always helping people, volunteered at 9/11, would go out of his way for his friends, and loved his wife and two small children. He worked at the same job for twenty seven years. The tears were endless. His father and mother, sisters and brother, nieces and nephews, wife, children, in laws, friends were openly sad. Me included.

 

I took notice that there were fifty three funeral arrangements. I have never seen so many flowers at a wake. How wonderful to be remembered in such a fond way.

We were closer when we were younger but over the years we would run into each other here and there  and give updates  about how our lives were going. I ran into him at the grocery store about a month before the stroke. I was meant to see him one last time without knowing I would never see him again.

I feel so lucky to know someone for such an incredible amount of years. And be a part of  his life. Most people I meet come and go quickly and there is not enough time to be comfortable. With him I was comfortable.

After the eulogy most of the crowd walked into the lobby to eat some Chinese pastries with coffee and tea. We went from one board to another looking at his life from childhood to fatherhood.

It is my belief that when you die your spirit has to become acclimated to its new form so you stick around for a while. That has been my experience with loved ones who pass away. They stick around and then become less and less dense when they are ready.

As I looked at his pictures there he was in spirit right next to me. Smiling and happy and plump with life  that he was so richly remembered. I know I will always remember him. And how in his short life he used goodness and kindness towards others in remarkable ways to make a difference.

I am inspired to do the same. Thank you for the reminder that life is very short and to do the best you can.  Thanks for being in my life.

That is an incredible way to be remembered.

Amitoufo, buddy. RIP

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Henry the Little Bear

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Once upon a time there was a little brown bear. His name was Henry. Henry loved to spend his days in the Spring flower beds. He would pick pink, green, yellow and blue flowers for his Mom. His Mom loved every flower Henry brought home. Henry found honeycomb with sweet honey. The honey spilled on his chin. Mom brought the honeycomb home for a sweet treat. Henry counts butterfly’s. One, Two, Three. Oh, one landed on his nose. Gentle butterfly. A ladybug sits on a green leaf and wavers hello to Henry. “Hello” says Henry. It’s time for bed. Mom has made a soft bed of pillows and toys. “Good nite Henry, I love you.” said Mom. “Good nite Mom, I love you too Mom.” said Henry. He fell fast asleep.