I do apologise. I have not posted in quite awhile. My health is never great at this time of the year and my energy levels always attest to that.
This was my very first post, almost a year ago now. It didn’t get much attention – it’s a bad attempt at poetry, which is not my forte. But the feelings were real. And the words suit this time of year, when it appears that everyone is scurrying around preparing The. Best. Christmas. Ever. Music is sweet and nostalgic; folks are preparing to go home for the holidays; family members are surreptitiously wrapping presents; cookies are being baked and plans being made.
But this is a hard, lonely time of the year for so many: this is the time of year when losses are felt most deeply; the time of the year when being alone feels lonelier than at any other time of the year; the time of year when we try too hard; eat too much; drink too much; spend too much; do too much. This is the time of year when weak marriages tend to end; when families tend to fight or to shatter. Or just not come home at all.
When you are out and about, I urge you to take the time to listen to people’s responses after you have asked them how they are. I mean, really, really listen…
This is such an easy time of the year to slip, unnoticed, through the cracks…
How Are You?
You ask me how I am And then glance past my shoulder Already anxious To continue your errands
"Fine." I reply "Great, great," you answer Already dancing on your toes Poised to be on your way
I wonder, As I often do What you would say If I told you the truth
"I feel terrible; hopeless Nothing holds any meaning I spend huge chunks of my day Wishing I were dead."
"Great, great," You would likely reply with disinterest, So ingrained is your anticipation Of a polite, meaningless answer
I watch you scurry away And I wonder How you could have missed The black cloud hanging over my head
Patti Moore Wilson © wednesdayschildca.wordpress.com