|
| | The Bereaved Parent Blues
It's been six years since I held my little boy's hand and heard his
laugh. I know this bereavement journey is suppose to focus on
healing and hope. I've done that and am sure you have, too. It's
a continual thing, like a process, only I don't like to think of grief
as a process, because it makes me think of cheese and I'm not
cheese.
Since our loved one's death, I know we have become compassionate,
become more aware of life's frailty, seen the value of a sunset, and
walked along the valleys with new wisdom.
Well, I'm going to digress a bit. Pretend I just took a turn down a
path where my guitar and tunes were welcome and while seated
on a barstool I had the freedom to strum out this song. It's not
about hope or healing, it's a side of reality getting the best of me, I
know. Here it goes:
"I got the blues, I got the Bereaved Parent Blues.
I'm tired of having to answer to "how many children do you have?"
I'm tired of getting pictures developed and never any new of you
I'm tired of conversations about cold medications, Band-Aids
and scraped knees.
I'm tired of being tired
I've got the blues, I got the Bereaved Parent Blues.
I'm tired of wondering what you do every day in Heaven
I'm tired of everyone growing older, everyone but you
I'm tired of people saying how grateful they are that
nothing bad has happened to them.
I'm tired of being tired
I've got the blues, I got the Bereaved Parent Blues.
I'm tired of buying pinwheels and balloons for the grave
I'm tired of holiday music and your empty chair
I'm tired of my old aching eyes watching your peers
without you.
I'm tired of being tired
I've got the blues, I got the Bereaved Parent Blues."
I'm tired of waking up from a night of crying
I'm tired of listening to others deny grief and laugh at death
I'm tired of never finding your socks under the bed
nor your hand inside mine.
I'm tired of being tired
I've got the blues, I got the Bereaved Parent Blues."
Sometimes you just have to get the sad and mad out. Keeping it
bottled in or pretending all is well sure gets in the way of healing.
I'm glad for the times I have the freedom to sing out the bereaved
blues. Now I think I'm ready to tackle the day.
~Alice J. Wisler
|
