suddenly
in the middle of
the everyday
I miss you
like a punch in my gut
the pain spreading
in every fibre of me
thought I was
okay
passed all stages
of crisis
out on the other side
okay
but it never goes away
the missing of you
then I feel you near
placing your hand
on my shoulder
telling me
I'm in a good place
okay
I'm okay
You learn to live with your scars, ha de Gött!
I wish I could
make new pictures
make new memories
I wish I could
hear a brand new clever pun
hear a loud laughter anew
I wish I could
see fingers over ebony and ivory
see fingers over guitar frets
I wish I could
turn time right back
turn things on track
I wish I could
To my youngest son. He should have turned 24 today. Forever missed.
Yesterday it was two years since we had the burial ceremony for my son. My sons piano teacher Christer, who is also a church musician, posted a video of my son Edvin when plays Claire de lune by Claude Debussy at age 15. So many times I’ve heard him practice this on the piano but he never allowed me to record it. Even if it was hard to see his fingers move across the keys these gems he left for us in his music somehow makes it easier to cope.
play mates forest and water swirling down the hill in an whimsical stop and go water push trough forests attempts to hold back its friend float along branch and stick see where it goes to the noisy roaring ocean wind freeze a moment in cold north wind rippling to birds accompaniment and treetops whooshing till we meet again
Stay in the moment, ha de Gött!
Picked up, his guitar today wrapped my hand around its neck slide my fingers along the strings Picked up, his guitar today scuffed up frets from his music finger tips on his favorite chords Picked up, his guitar today the weight in my lap heavy, as my silent heart Picked up, his guitar today
Cherish the music in your life, ha de Gött!
tone from green yellow and red gust chilly wind gently single down birds formation fly far away land left behind on the ground fade and dry yellow parchment wind tossed in shorter days
I wrote this to the autumn, inspired by the colorful leaf. Forming the words, I realized it was about me being left behind. Some days you just feel like a fading leaf, ha de Gött!
A full year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525 600 minutes. 31 536 000 seconds. Since you left.
In the video my son Edvin, who passed away from us one year ago today, plays his own music. I recorded the video just an hour after he finished the composition. A few week later he was no longer with us. I post this to honor his memory. Hope you like it.
Introduce yourself, that short, get to know.
Introduction to start of a training course or workshop.
Meet up with people you don’t know before.
Your name, company, your job and for how long.
Extracurricular activities and interest, not a problem.
But then.
Wife and two children, oldest 23 and one year left at university.
Studying to become high school teacher in Swedish and history.
Still quite easy, what next.
Youngest son should have been 21, but last year passed away.
Make everyone feel uncomfortable, but…
He’s still my son forever in my heart.
Never mention him, as if he never existed?
Pretend he’s still alive and at his second year at university.
But he will never be a computer science engineer.
His ash is in an urn.
Grief throws many punches in everyday life. Specially in situations you don’t expect. This needed to come out.
Grab the handle Open, take charge Enter the unknown Leave open Creaking hinges Forged with fire Handle on the future
Pictures from a windmill close to my home. Stay tuned for more pictures and the story. Hope you like, subscribe and comment on my amateur poetry and pictures. Ha de Gött!
Like an island in the stream, caught in a maelstrom. Life streams on, flows past you. Stuck in vortex on an island of rose bushes. Tearing thorns from loss, beautiful flowers of memories. Stream of life passes by, calling you out again. How can I leave this island of roses? How can I leave this comfort of pain? Waiting for the flood to wash me of. Should I make a raft of rose bushes? A raft to float down the stream of life. A raft of loss and memories.
Writing is a way to deal with things in life. After loosing my son some weeks ago I have struggled to find the strength to write again. Writing this helps me deal with the sorrow and if it can help anyone else I will be glad. Please share, like, comment and subscribe. Also check out my other posts.
UlleHaddock 