The Table top Poem

The Table top poem by Emily Sturgill

2/26/2011

A woman filled with the mourning of

the loss of her husband

put his hunting jacket on the table.

She also placed his fishing gear, hooks and tackle on the table.

She put her memories of him into their children and grandchildren.

The stories he would tell She put the words into her dry mouth telling

them to all who would listen especially on the holidays.

After 40 years of marriage a stranger murdered her husband.

She had never met this stranger before but he was introduced to the couple

three years before her husband’s death as Stomach Cancer.

Unfortunately due to her grief the woman has to be reminded of the happy times She had with her husband by her children and friends. The couple with one half missing now have a great grandchild.

She changes into her nightgown putting her heart on her sleeve and goes to bed into a dreamless sleep.

Written for Gary and Deborah Sturgill in 2011. Gary passed in April 2006.

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Mothers Day

Mothers Day-
5/8/14
by Emily Sturgill

I feel
the pressure
of your hand
on
my forehead still…
to see if I was sick with fever.

The pressure
of your fingertips
lingers lightly
on my head.

Oh, what I would give!
Just to wake up one day
and learn your no longer
dead.

The memories,
are merely moments
I shared with you.

Years, Years, and Years
ago-
many many moons ago-

If only I knew,
how quickly
moments, and memories
disappear…

I would have pulled you tighter
and held you near.
really regretting all
the fights we once had.

And,
I wonder if your
in heaven
and
are you still mad?

The cycle of Life

The cycle of Life

is  such that we all Live but someday

we all die too.

I am making it sounds so simplistic-

yet nothing could be farther than true.

The cycle of our Lives is in constant motion.

Ever changing, ever growing, nothing in fact

ever stays exactly the same.

Each day we are living, we must strive

to remind ourselves to enjoy

this journey we are on

for time stops for no one.

Sometimes simple truths are the best,

Live each and everyday

to its fullest; ignore the rest.

The cycle of life is a curious thing.

Nobody has a map to bring, nor directions,

if we falter.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to live in

the Here and Now, but exactly what is our

choice or option? To dwell in the distortions of our past,

or to linger in the unknown ever unfolding future,

Or merely breathe in

breathe out

and enjoy these moments of Life rooted in the present,

before time runs out and

Regrets loom large?

Nobody knows the pathway of mortality,

we are born, we live and then someday we will die.

I do not have any wisdom, nor answers,

I cannot explain why.

I just accept this to be a universal truth.

Appreciate the moments of Today for tomorrow

is not promised and the past we cannot change

the key is to living Life to the fullest

in each moment that you can claim.

It’s just the Cycle of Life.

The deep end of Loss

The deep end of Loss

contains Mourning and Grief-

A Sorrow so deep

that nothing can touch.

Growing older means

to her additional Grief and Sorrow.

Each death is in itself,

is one more test-

the loss only intensifies with age.

I witness her Grief and Sorrow

I wish I could erase the years on her pain.

But this I cannot do and my words

are just not the same.

She stands at the deep end of a pool

which holds all her tears of the losses

and pain-missing loved ones who has

passed into the great beyond.

Each and every death seems to only

compound her losses,

as she revisits the feelings of Mourning and Grieving.

I stand witness to this mostly

in silence.

I have a secret that she does not.

I know deep down she is strong and can handle it.

But this is something-this secret truth-that evades her

and all of her sorrows.

Each and every death hits her hard like it’s

a brand new experience and she re-lives each and every

death she has ever encountered.

I have no words for this.

I can only reach out to give her a hug.

The deep end of Loss

contains Mourning and Grief-

A Sorrow so deep

that nothing can touch.

Growing older means

to her additional Grief and Sorrow.