Still Close By

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death, death of a loved one, father, For Jackie, friendship, grief, loss, love, muddled, poem, poetry, remembrance, sadness

I have not gone
I am close by
In the stars above
You can see my love

I have not gone
I am by your side
In the moon above
You will feel my love

I have not gone
I walk with you
As the world revolves
You will touch my love

I have not gone
I still talk with you
Listen carefully and do not fear
It’s my loving voice you hear

I have not gone
I am near by
Don’t forget
My love will never die

~ Marie Williams 2016

Dedicated to Jackie

Previously published on http://riceandpease.wordpress.com

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Florence: Part 2

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daughter, death, emotion, fears, forgiveness, healing, Holy Land. Garden tomb, inspiration, Jerusalem, journal, journey, joy, mother, Redeemer, tranquility

I was overwhelmed by the response I received from writing about Florence. There was such an outpouring of love and compassion on a scale which I had not expected. All of those amazing, wonderful voices that spoke to my post, I want to say a very deep and heartfelt thanks from the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much. I would love it if Florence could have shared in the love and compassion too but sadly she is no longer here. But that does not mean that because she is not here to hear all those wonderful sentiments, she cannot share the love. Florence was my mother. And because I am her daughter a piece of her, a very valuable and precious part of her lives on in me, and so because she did not have a voice while she was a victim of domestic violence, I hope by sharing with you a very poignant time in her life, her voice will speak once again.

Image: Source unknown

Florence, my mother, your once tortured soul I hope rests in peace and I hope that you don’t mind sharing that wonderful day you had in the Holy Land shortly before you left us. I found your journal in amongst your things, and I read about the amazing time you had. You didn’t have many amazing days for longer than I care to say, sadly for you, but I know you treasured life and all it had to give despite facing many dark days. This light-filled day was a blessing to me when I read it and so many were saddened by your experience, that I would like them to know that you experienced joy and you were able to record it so that I would one day find it and share it with others who care for you.

Florence in her own words:

“The tour of the Holy Land is a most exciting and moving experience. The Bible is made alive. It surpassed all my expectations.

During my grown-up years it was always my desire to visit the Holy Land – Christ’s birthplace. Oh I wish I had been there when He walked among men.

Now that I have gone there, I was really overwhelmed by the vastness of the land and the awesomeness of it. I have seen a lot, and I am certain that there was much more to be seen. But the place that had the greatest impact on me was the Garden Tomb where Jesus was supposed to have been laid after His death. I entered the tomb and saw the imprint of His body and as I emerged I glanced upon the wall and saw the words: “He is not here. He is risen” and then I suddenly realised that my Redeemer lives and for a moment I was transfixed.

Then we began to wander through the Garden and the visit was terminated by Holy Communion and prayer. I never experienced such peace in my life. All the tiredness had left me and I felt so relaxed I had to tell my experience to my room-mate when I returned that evening to the hotel. I am so glad I was able to make the journey to Jerusalem because what I saw and heard will linger with me for the rest of my life. We returned home on the 24th February 1996 and our lives have never been the same since that week that was spent in the Holy Land. We stayed at the King’s Hotel in Jerusalem”.

I am pleased to have given my mother a voice. So many of us are unable to use that most precious of gifts for whatever reason. It is such a powerful instrument and with power comes responsibility. The responsibility to use our voices wisely.

~ MEW 2016

We write to “right”, right?

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birth, communication, creativity, death, emotion, expression, fears, harmony, healing, journey, life, poetry, struggle, words, Writing

When we need to feel the way we think we ought to feel, what’s the first thing we look for? We grab a pen and a sheet of paper and we mark that piece of paper with the deep stirrings of our heart. Feelings felt are emotional words which will not rest. Restless, they birth in the mind’s womb, children of (sometimes) unequal bedfellows. Having nothing in common save a lust for life and life at its best, not a life of struggle or unrest. And who does not want to live a life free from encumbrance of sadness, sickness, greed and grief? A life that meanders along a lane of lasting twists and turns and leads you lonely, lost and drowned in sorrows which forever abound.

Those children words in infancy come screaming, raw and red. They hit the paper with a bump. When washed free of literary placenta, they open their eyes and survey their surroundings: their parents if they are fortunate to have two, sigh with relief that they have all their fingers and their toes. They do not dress them in pink or blue, lemon or white they find will do. Those words, those precious longed for words, those words which never required IVF, fertilized by need, born to succeed, they speak the depths of the human heart. They utter the joy, they express delight, they sometimes quarrel noisily and fight. But each and every word that’s born to parents of their need to perform the seemingly endless tasks that life requires is always thankful their child was born.

We write to right the wrongs. We write to speak of our delight. We write to fight. We write for peace. We write to rally our battle cries. We write to herald birth. We write to make a friend of death. We write to champion life.

~ MEW 2016

Time

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birth, concept, death, Ecclesiates 3, expectations, Father Time, healer, human experience, journey, letting go, mother, purpose, season, time

Time in essence ethereal yet so solid it reigns supreme. It has its own place in its own kingdom and rarely a day passes without mention of the time. Time to go; time to get ready. Time to wake up; time to go to sleep. An expression of impatience: “She’s been with us for almost a year now, it’s time she got used to us”. Thoughts voiced aloud by a mother who didn’t understand her small daughter and thought time was all that was needed to bridge the gap between leaving her child and getting to know her years later. Time the great healer: time has no emotions. It doesn’t know that it has been imbued with healing qualities by mankind and that it sometimes falls short of expectations when it doesn’t deliver.

Time was, when the grass was greener, when men were gentlemen, when times were better, and men treated their women like women should be treated. Time was when children were better behaved. Time: this hazy, glowing picture of perfection. a picture portraying ideals which never really existed. More like a mirage, an oasis contrived by the desperate thirst-filled individual painstakingly making his way to the illusion of water.

Time raised to immortality in Ecclesiastes 3: “To everything there is a season, time for every purpose under heaven”. Time is of the essence it has been said. Time waits for no man, that too we’ve heard. Father Time, a respected figure: but why no “Mother Time”: was there only room for you? Could the two not reign side by side?

Time passes, ride on time, time to let things go, haven’t you noticed the time? Time goes so slowly. Time can do so much. So much responsibility has been attributed to this word used almost daily, sometimes casually without much thought and at other times with such reverence that it is a wonder how it encapsulates so much of the human experience from birth to death.

A timely post you might ask? Only time will tell …

~ MEW

Sketch of the day no 488 in my art journal: Set your spirit free. I’m wishing for a pair of wings so that I can fly over to bring you beautiful things.

Tags

angel wings, angels, art, communication, compassion, creativity, death, drawing, flight, Heaven

Angel Wings …

BulanLifestyle.com

Today’s sketch in my art journal is a pair of angel wings that I am wishing for, to be able to fly up to heaven to visit my mum and dad. I love you both and you are always in my thoughts xoxo

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