This house feels like home
Like it’s where I’ve been all along. All
these years, all this life.
Passing strange, the log house and
all that happened there was
a dream I’m just waking from. Like, “Whew! I’m so glad it wasn’t real!
But it was.
Of course it was.
Yet that feeling has me in thrall right now, and
I’m not entirely sure
I want to disabuse it.
It feels a bit like betrayal,
on so many levels,
My dream. My home. My son’s painful life, and oblivious death.
A dream, a dream, a dream. And now,
I’m awake. Now,
it’s a bit of solace
I’d like to hold onto. I need
to hold onto.
*
All the curtains are hung, pictures,
in place, word art, (Q: What is a wall without a quote on it? A: A blank page!)
stuck to walls. My magic. My sparkle. My home.
The dream wasn’t all good, or
all bad. It simply was, and now it’s in the past. I don’t
long for it; how could I long for such sorrow?
Like a dream, let it fade into something less frightening, less
rending. Let the joy rise up and out, let it
follow me home.
Wonderful words and a great awakening! You know yourself so well, and it’s wonderful that you share this with us! You deserve happiness and a new adventure! Hugs!
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My eversweet, Beverly. Thank you.
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Beautiful, Terri. You’ve moved on to a new reality, but the old one will never be forgotten. I’m glad you’ve found joy in your new surroundings, a place where you will have tons and tons of new memories ❤
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I’m hopeful, and sad, but mostly hopeful. ❤ Thanks.
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❤ that's all. a simple and much needed element in our lives
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❤️❤️❤️ exactly right.
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A pause, a love , a life, have felt your sorrow, feel your sorrow, your joy, your love. Thank you for your gift of words that touch hearts. Life can still be loving and joyful in spite of such dreadful pain every time your write I remember Joey, my dear Grandson and his pain ending the same as your dear son. But my heart still loves and thank you for writing such beautiful words. I am grateful you have been given the gift of a new chapter
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Your words are beautiful. Thank you.
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