A Mighty Good Man

"They were all out of step but Jim." song by Billy Murray

A heavy dew blankets the ground
and trees appear like apparitions
through the veil of a cool misty morning.
Birds are singing a melancholy song
as summer slips into autumn.
I breathe in the cool crisp air
while watching the sun slowly rise and
bid the moon 'adieu'.

It was a restless night and I could not
prevent my mind from racing.
I once read that if a person often wakes
between the hours of 3 and 4 in the morning
it may be caused by a spirit or spirits trying to communicate.
As it was, four years ago this month your battle with cancer was lost.
In less than a year the melanoma that had returned ravaged
your body like a wild fire out of control.

I was reminded of this when I saw a picture of the grandson,
who you will never see. It was taken as he sat in the garden
next to the marker where your ashes lay.
Although our union lasted only 19 years,
you were my husband once and the father of our children.
During those last few months as you suffered through
treatment after treatment, I watched as they stood
by your side and lovingly helped tend to your needs.
When you let me, I also tried to help out
and would have done more if only time had allowed.

Instead, I answered the phone at 3:16 that fateful morning
and heard your son's desperate voice on the other end
telling me that you had collapsed and the paramedics were on the way.
I rushed over and immediately spotted his large frame
bending over you, working alongside the emergency crew
as they fought to restore your breathing and heart beat.
Your daughter was huddled in the corner of the bedroom

with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the group

of people who surrounded your lifeless body lying on the floor.

She was in a state of shock and no amount of hugging
or words of encouragement could comfort her in this moment.

I observed all of this as a helpless bystander
feeling like we no longer were in control and that
soon you would be leaving us.
Now, as the years have gone by, the hurt
still lingers like an unwanted guest.
More than once I had selfishly wished it were me instead of you
that had left, to avoid sharing the pain and suffering
felt by your children as a result of their loss. 
To all who knew you, you were bigger than life and
the gaping hole you left us with can never be filled.
 
When I play with our young grandchildren,
kiss their scraped knees, read them stories or tuck them into bed,
I often whisper a silent prayer for you.
They are too young to understand now, but it won't be long
before I can talk to them about their brave, intelligent, loving Grandpa Jim
who would have given the world to be able to stay and love them as
I have.

It is late morning now and the misty veil
has lifted with the dew still hugging the ground.
The trees stand tall dressed in leaves that are just

  beginning to turn to shades of gold, auburn, and red.
I listen as the chorus of birds singing grows louder
by the moment and the sun sits higher in the sky.
Gray clouds are gathering and there is a hint

of rain in the air, but just for a moment
I imagine seeing an ethereal figure drifting
among them as if to say "I am alright
and you will be too."
















 
I

Author's Note

In memory of my late, estranged husband who will forever be in my heart and mind. He was one of a kind.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A wonderful story shared dear Dara. We allow few people into our heart. Photo, words and thoughts. Left a legacy for a man. Thank you for sharing your powerful words and thoughts.
Coyote

[Dara]

There are those who stay with us even after they are gone. Your words just made my day. Thank you so much.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Dara.

[Cherrie Palmer]

You have expressed Jim's story so graciously. I especially liked how you sandwiched this between your poem.
In the midst of our eyes taking in nature's beauty I'm always amazed where my mind will wander.

[Dara]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It means a great deal to me because the memory came from a very deep place emotionally. Yes, sometimes sitting quietly in the woods or by the ocean often makes my mind wander as well. Truly a wonderful place to reflect and be inspired. Many thanks, Cherrie.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Yes, I agree. People spend so much time immersed in noise they never hear that inward voice.
read moreYes, I agree. People spend so much time immersed in noise they never hear that inward voice.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Dara... I have known this very story you have shared... a Man larger than life who passed and could not enjoy his grandchildren growing up. But somehow he knows and is part of guiding their lives. truly, Pat

[Dara]

Thank you so much Pat. Yes, I believe that to be true as well. I look forward to be able to telling them about him as they grow older. It is so nice to see you here. Hope all is well!

[.]

A magnificent write, Dara. A wonderful tribute.

Your words here, the gentleness of their tone and the softness of their cascading flow leave no doubt in the reader's mind as to the importance of this man to your life and those of your family. Having experienced the trauma of skin cancer myself, your eulogy really hit a deep nerve within me. Such a horrible disease that steals our loved one's away with ferocious intensity. A true tragedy that your Jim was taken far too soon.

No doubt this was a difficult write to get down on paper. In doing so i hope you have lessened the weight of guilt that we as survivors tend to place upon our shoulders. For the poignancy of your words have given you that freedom and have paid a wonderful tribute, to, no doubt, a wonderful man.

A lovely piece of writing. Touching, realistic and incredibly brave. Well Done.

[Dara]

I am so very touched by your kind words and incredible insight into what this write meant to me. I was almost compelled to put my thoughts down and afterwards felt a small weight lift from my shoulders. Although time heals most wounds I was not surprised by the emotions that surfaced as I wrote as they most likely were lying dormant waiting for just the right moment to appear. Many many thanks for taking the time to read and share a bit of yourself with me. All my best to you!

[Kelly Scheppers]

"as the years have gone by, the hurt
still lingers like an unwanted guest..."

I don't believe it ever leaves us, not completely. Perhaps it is meant to linger, until we are physically and mentally able to diffuse what we can let go of and what we need to hold on to. Such a lovely piece you've written here, Dara. I'm sure it wasn't easy to put down in words, but look at what you've created for your grandchildren to embrace in the years to come. Much love and sympathy for your loss, my friend!

[Dara]

So very beautifully said, Kelly. I have not quite looked at it this way before but it makes all the sense in the world. Strange how we can mentally file certain events and/or feelings away until they become triggered by a familiar song, special photo, etc. Thank you so much for your kind words and understanding. It means alot!

[Kelly Scheppers]

Anytime, you know that!

[Einstein Noodle]

this is obviously confessional, Dara ... i am sorry for the loss of Jim ... from you and your family .. reading leaves me with a quiet reverence ... in the moment you create with your poem ... i like the book ends opening and closing ..it changes the way i read the middle ... with its change in form and font .. its more like a testimony one reads about someone like Jim and the other musings with more heart ... the witching hour is between 2 and 3 AM Dara ;) so stay aware :))))))) i have been pre-deceased by a lot of people in my family ... i am reminded of them .. and the sadness it brings knowing they are not here anymore ... unless lingering in those misty mornings .. love and peace!
E.

[Dara]

You know it definitely is. I believe I have been suffering a bit from 'survivor's guilt' and for some reason was driven to write down the events of that time period. Perhaps I am exposing myself a bit too much as I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve but something drove me to write this and share with my special friends in poetry, knowing they would understand and digest what I had to say in a good way. Your kindness means so much and I am happy that you could relate. I often wake up around the 'bewitching hours'. Wonder what that means? Hmmm.....

[Einstein Noodle]

i do too ... but all my life i have been a morning person ... i am usually up in the Witching ... mostly means i can't fall back asleep ;}