myspokenheart

musings on life, love and laughter from my spoken heart to yours


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we all need time to grieve…

I was going to leave the tragedy of recent days alone. I was going to carry on as if it never happened, partly because I do not want to draw any more attention to the situation than has already been done, and partly because as horrific and unfathomable as it is it does not affect me or my little world (that is not entirely true as it can bring me to tears and make me a useless mess at any moment if I allow it). Another reason is I feel that all the families affected deserve their time to mourn in peace; I can only imagine how hard it would be to grieve under the watchful eye of a ‘well meaning’ society (The thought makes me shudder).

But there is a flip side to this coin that all seem to have lost sight of. Now perhaps I see things the way I do because there is something desperately wrong with me. Or perhaps it is a gift (an unwanted gift). Who knows? But the young man who did what he did (he will remain nameless here) – in spite of how we want to see him, or of how we may need to see him, or how we feel, in spite of all logic – was a real living, breathing, feeling human being. He was a young man barely started in life. He is reported to have had mental illness – that was obviously not being treated as it should have been. He had a family with people in it who loved him – who still love him. Who are now grieving and trying to sort it out in their heads and hearts.

No one wants to relate to him as a real person – I understand it’s much easy to make him out as a monster. But he was a person. He had parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins – just like you and me and the kid next door, and somewhere in that mix of people were individuals who loved him. Individuals, who are shocked, appalled, overwhelmed and heart broken. No-one raises a child thinking they could turn out to be a mass murderer, a wife abuser, a drug addict, a molester, a rapist, a thief, etc. But it happens ALL the time. How? Why? I have no idea.

To all who are still reading… Please know that my intentions are in no way to undermine or minimalize the pain and grief of the victims. Their pain and grief is beyond comprehension and cannot, should not ever be thought of as less than that. Their pain is mind numbing, heart wrenching and all consuming I know this to be true even though I am not in their shoes. But the harsh reality is his surviving family members are victims too. Victims who will experience moments of hate and confusion. Moments where they will blame themselves. They are victims who will wonder where they went wrong and how could they not have seen. But how could they have, no-one could have seen this. And they must understand they cannot blame themselves for what he did – and neither must we. Every one of us is responsible for our own actions and cannot control the actions of others. Pointing fingers and getting angry just spreads more hate, confusion and mistrust. This is a time for love and compassion, and in time, eventually hope, healing and forgiveness will follow.

I know people will not see what I see, some will get very angry reading this, some may stop following me. That’s ok.  Just don’t respond with hate. Take time to think. Take time to ponder what can we do to help prevent this from happening again? Can we make this better for all involved? And if so how?

From myspoken-anddeeplysorrowed-heart to yours… xoxoxox


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Words crash…

Some days are hard. Sometimes we say and do things that we don’t mean in the heat of the moment. We hurt those we love even though we don’t mean to. Sometimes we don’t even realize we did, until it’s too late.

WORDS CRASH

Words crash…
…down on me
they hit so much harder
…than a fist
cut deeper
…than any sword

I am left
shattered
in a thousand
tiny pieces
. . . s c a t t e r e d
across the tile floor

My brain
… why won’t it stop
rewind – repeat
I hear
those bitter words
over and over

Like the ocean tide
…they wash over me
Underwater
Down here it’s cold
The weight
…is heavy

My heart
…it pounds fast
like a bird in my chest
it may explode…
…the stupid tears
won’t come
my eyes burn…

Why can’t I be good enough for you?


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little dove

Sorrow – drawn 2008

Close your eyes my little dove
Just rest awhile here in my love
Heart is broken, tears are shed
As you sleep in an eternal bed
Death may take you far away
But in my heart you’ll always stay

This post is dedicated to anyone who has ever experienced the sorrow of a miscarriage. The picture ‘Sorrow’ was drawn one evening after I had received news that a friend was being sent to hospital because the doctors were afraid she was going to lose her unborn child (she didn’t thankfully).

The poem ‘Little Dove’ was written this year when some-one my eldest daughter knew – through a maternity web page – had shared the sad news that she had lost her baby.