Tag: grief

Dear Mom,

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Colombe (Bette) Daudelin June 16,1926-Dec. 2, 2014

Colombe (Bette) Daudelin
June 22, 1926-Dec. 2, 2014

Dear Mom,,

I think of you when I walk through a mall and get a whiff of your scent which sends me back in time…I want to follow the scent without feeling like a stalker…aw, how you are missed!

Today I shared with a colleague/friend where you got your nickname of Bette. I must send her a photo to show how much you did look like Bette Davis. And you will never guess what! At lunchtime, I watched an old Johnny Carson clip and Bette Davis was his guest!! The Great Spirit sure works in mysterious ways.

Colombe (Bette) Daudelin

Wish you could see my kids now and how they’ve become amazing adults and parents. You left knowing only one grandson who is now 21…a handsome young man. Your granddaughter is looking more and more like you. She had a beautiful wedding two years ago with a dress you would have chosen for sure! It was very 1950’s glam!

Oh how you’d love your grandson’s wife; they brought a photo of you for their wedding which they placed on a small altar on the beach. During the ceremony the wind flew the picture to the ground. We all laughed feeling your presence.

You would love his wife. She is so much like you…loves designer clothes and high end fragrances. She even talks like you! They now have two beautiful children…yes, a girl who is five and a boy who is three. You would probably pinch their cheeks at least once and I could easily see you on the floor playing with them.

Thinking of you so much today, Mom…the last day I spent with you and just passed midnight tonight will be 11 years you have left this earth but never our hearts. Love you so much!

Miss you always
Even when you pinch my cheeks
Until the next time
See you where we’ll laugh and dance
Jitterbug and rock’n roll

(c) Tournesol 2015/12/01



A decade…sans toi (troibun)

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I can’t believe a decade has passed…and yet, your presence is missed as if you just went on a very long trip. It feels surreal that I will never see you again in this life. But oh, I dream of seeing you some day again. Although your physical presence is missed, I savour your visits in my sleep. Sometimes I binge too many crime shows and some nights, I dream I am trying to solve some dangerous mystery and you are often with me…it’s as if we are the Nancy Drew team [smiles] and when I wake up and review my dream I cannot help but smile in awe that you accompanied me on this fascinating and action packed adventure.

A decade
Without
Your scent

Without
Your infectious
Laugh

Your scent
Lingers in my mind
Givenchy

Miss you, Mom xx

© Tournesol 2024-12-02

Colombe – Bette – Mom- Nanny
June 26. 1926 – Dec 2, 2014
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Reflections on Grief (Free Verse)

We hear of endings
the last time
that last moment
saying goodbye
and yet,
no warnings of “firsts”
first Christmas
first New Year
first birthday
and many other firsts
who would have known
the last would turn full circle
to the first
being as tender as that last day
bittersweet in many ways
ingredients of woe
are recipes of grief.
how to separate sorrow
from blissful memories?
you don’t
it’s not planned
it’s processed
it’s lived
it’s worn
like an old hoodie
fitted like a soft duvet
feeling like a heavy blanket
struggling with the heaviness
of fond narratives of a past

ah but the weight one feels
of such collections that we sort
but carry oh so selfishly
letting go is not a language
yet understood…
hanging on to each noun, pronoun,
verbs and oh those adjectives!

Time does not lighten this quilt
but our heart becomes accustomed

weaving heartfelt stories
every shade and colour
securing them with bonded yarn
strong, everlasting scripts
never-ending stories
our heritage woven lovingly
… a family heirloom.

(c) Tournesol 2022-09-23

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Grief etched on faces ~ daily moments

It's week two of our partial lockdown, curfews and life in this fifth wave.  My heart goes out to people living alone, especially seniors who have no family or few friends.  And then I feel for youths.  How do they see the world these days, having been robbed of so much these passed two years

underlining grief etched upon faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

upside down smiles
not knowing why, how, when
will life feel moderately
tolerable
again

trying to pull away
feeling bits of freedom
independence
rebellious 
teens being teens

but not now
stolen pockets of time 
laughing with friends
no one sees their smiles
masked with triple layers
no one sees their frowns
no one hears their truths
crying silently in their dreams

underlining grief etched upon  faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

a time to make friends
meet new people
parties here
get-together there

finally find that special
person
who gets them…

and yet, all those
experiences pre-pandemic 
wishful dreams
unrequited loves
unfulfilled aspirations

isolation
desperation
precious paltry moments
facetiming, 
echoes of a video chat

working part time
everyone under pressure
bosses seem demanding
clients irritated
parents stressed and worried

cabin fever breaks
time for a walk
bike ride is always safe
winter sucks these times
holding them hostage
reality biting with a vengence 


underlining grief etched upon  faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

© cheryl-lynn ‘2022-01-07  

Daily Moments  Jan 7 2022

Miss you Mom

Featured
 
 
7 years passed
missing her each day
like it was just
yesterday
 
miss her scent
rich and heavy
animated laughter
flirtatious smile
uttering  her sweet “darling”
with a British accent
 
7 years has passed
miss her like
it was yesterday
 
Love you Mom
now and forever
a timex love affair
keeps on ticking.

(c) tournesol 2021-12-02
(c)Clr’14

in loving memory of a great man (free verse)

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Can`t seem to find the words
the mind is just so numb
cracks etched upon my heart
memories start to form
lines on every vein
telling each a different story
good, caring, funny
warm, loving, happy
smart, wise and witty,
A hundred and one adjectives
Never enough for this fine man

that time he whispered softly,
“Now be careful when you date,
that no man breaks your heart”
Handing me a tiny teddy
That held a great big heart
he gave me one fine Christmas
My first, away from home

Oh! Remember my first date
At Phantom of the Opera!
so frazzled on what to wear!
Fred and Mae just sat down calmly
on their maple Vilas couch
watching the little fashion show
helped me choose what to wear

those nights coming home
after a date with so and so…
a bottle of Kahlua
a shot glass and a note
“Hope you had a nice time,
Here’s a nightcap for you,
before you go to bed”
that time that we three had dinner
and then he smiled and asked
smacked his lips mischievously
“Wanta share a joint with me,
It’s one of Wardy’s homegrown?”
I thought about it
mulled it over
and said to myself,
“Why not?!”
I felt very safe
with Mae & Fred
and was plenty curious too!!
Had not experimented
In my teens with LSD or pot
a goody two shoes I was a lot
the sixties and the seventies…
never dated much either
I married my teenage sweetheart
When I was just fifteen.

I think mid-life made me daring
at forty-five I was bold
I tried my very first joint
just a few puffs here and there
and off to Disneyland I was!
Guess I was not a good candidate
or as my cousin Ward would say,
“Cuz, you sure are a cheap date!”

He was there when I moved
five hours away from home
he and his wife made sure
I was safe in my new home
He pushed me to exercise
Walking a mile after work
Then we’d eat that chunky soup
Homemade by Mae each week

We talked about life and helping people
Psychology and mental health
he understood me and my work
I could feel his fatherly pride
His heart that swelled inside
for all that I have done
and I’ll cherish all those times
he gave so selflessly
altruism his middle name

We both loved to read
And when he finally retired
He joined a book club
The only male reader there
But Fred was so accustomed
Exceptions were his ordinary

We shared a few novels
Discussed them for awhile
I wish I’d had more time
Discussed with him Green Mile
Those stories that made you think
I treasured his insights and wisdom
His thirst for learning
Never quite quenched
There was so much in life to learn
Feeding on medicine and therapies
nothing was beneath or above him
Except of course technology
Computers did drive him mad!

a loving and generous man
how could you not admire
A man of such great depth
quick and clever
kind and compassionate
he never missed a beat
devoted… compassionate

Until we meet again
Uncle Fred
I so hope you are dancing
Speed walking and jogging,
free of all aches and pains
walking up, one by one,
those golden stairs beckon
you to heaven

© Cheryl-Lynn August 7, 2019

summoning reverie ~ troibun Daily Moments Dec 1, 2018



message 
in my dream 
alerting me 
 
message 
urgency 
life and death 

in my dream 
you slept next to me 
then awakened me 
 
alerting me 
over and over again 
then I knew 
 
© Clr’14
(c)Clr’14
© Clr ’14
Colombe – Bette – Mom- Nanny June 26. 1926 – Dec 2, 2014

November 30th, 2014 I dreamed the same dream three times.  It was scary but you were there with me in my bed, trying to save a child from death.  

I forced myself awake for it scared me so…then slipped back into slumber and the same scene appeared two more times. And so, at four in the morning, on December 1st, I waited until dawn to call the nursing home.  I knew there had to be something wrong…no one had warned me. Not one relative had called me but I knew because you came to me and I knew you wanted me by your side. 

The nurse at the nursing home said softly “Come quick, she does not have much longer.”  The taxi took so long to get there or maybe I just wished he could have gone over the speed limit.  But an hour later, I was by your side all day and  all night until passed midnight…you raised your head slightly and turned towards me, taking your last breath.  


Blessed I am 
you could not speak 
you found a way 
 
blessed I am 
to be  
by your side 
 
you could not speak 
but acted out your plea 
in my sleep 
 
you found a way 
with the grace of God 
to summon me.   
 
© Tournesol ‘18-12-01 

Daily Moments December 1 2018  Summoning reveries   Troibun

swaying recalls (troiku) Daily Moments Sept 4/17

 

Image may contain: plant, tree, sky, outdoor, nature and water
©Clr’17

A Troiku

a thousand and one
rocking in her mother’s chair
memories

a thousand and one
I love you’s
never overstated

rocking in her mother’s chair
wishing
she were here

memories
storytelling and laughter
by the riverside

©Tournesol’17/09/04

Daily Moments  September 4 2017  – Swaying Recalls  (Troiku)

 

 

 

 

mysteries of grief (troibun)

Grief can be quite mysterious. One day it can feel like you are wrapped in a prickly shawl that makes you uncomfortable only now and then, when the prickles pinch you. Other times it can weigh you down like an iron wrap and slow you down for no reason at all. It snakes around and hides a spell and you may think that all must be fine, until it crawls out at the most inopportune time.

It is a slow process and not one person experiences it exactly the same way but the roller coaster of emotions can make you nauseous sometimes and other times angry, sad, guilty and salty tears return again cleansing your heart.

Sometimes I find grief is a bit like a leaky faucet. You know when, all you really need to do is change those worn out washers, but you don’t get around to it.   The water may start leaking when you least expect it.

Aw but laughter is cathartic and it can be a nice way to reminisce of past times, long ago and maybe an image will make you smile…a nice reprieve.

©Clr’16  First snowfall – November 21,2016

(troiku)

like the first snowfall
tender sorrows veiled
autumn leaves rest

like the first snowfall
slipping back in time
childhood memories

tender sorrows veiled
taking up too much energy
holiday seasons

autumn leaves rest
under fluffy white duvet
warmed by loving hearts

©Tournesol’16

Daily Moments – November 22,2016  Mysteries of grief

Grief (troiku)

like a tidal wave
spilling on broken hearts
grief flows

like a tidal wave
taste of rumbling waves
salty tears

spilling on broken hearts
life seems to stop
filling all the cracks

grief flows
caked upon mourning cheeks
remnants of your loss

©Tournesol’16