My daughter arrived,
Arrived for Sunday dinner.
She took of her coat
And put her handbag down.
When I saw it tears came to my eyes,
It was my lovers handbag,
The one that was always with her.
It was even by her side on that day,
That day when she passed from life
Into her wonderful Spirit World.
The tears just came,
But not only tears of sadness
But tears of joy as well,
Remembering those days
When we would go for coffee,
That handbag would come as well,
It brought back so many memories.
The ones of sadness were there,
As I remember so well
Checking that handbag
When she was taken by dementia.
I had to ensure all her needs,
All her needs were catered for,
Including what was needed,
Needed in that handbag.
That handbag brought back so many memories
That the tears flowed from my eyes,
When I saw it with my daughter.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2021 02:03
- Comment from author about the poem: When My Wife died our daughter was given much of her stuff including this handbag, I didn't think it would affect me the way it did when our daughter brought it when she came to have Sunday dinner with me yesterday.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 28
Offline)
Comments6
It takes a year - or more - getting through bereavement, they say. In one way, it takes forever, though 'time heals' somewhat, as the saying goes.
Nice one orch
It's not me (Orchi) writing it - it's Gold!
3 more comments
And so we pass into the great unknown, for that we have to admit is all we really know about what follows our passing other than our faith to believe that which we hold dearly. Always though is the haunting phrase 'they live on after death'. And here is your words today is a clearly defined truth of one aspect of how a loved one lives on along with us.
If i survive your passing then whenever i see a pair of buzzards doing their talons entwined tumble from altitude mating ritual then the two of you will live on in my mind my friend.
(when i lived at upper wick buzzards were regularly in the skies and to see a pair perform this dance of ritual was thrilling).
So true d a she is always with me.
I am not going to pass yet I still have too many people to annoy! LOL
Andy
emotion, is an absurd notion, how can something so intangible gain such an unnerving grasp on our mental condition, and yet
that same emotive unfurling of hidden wounds, is a window to our healing's, soothing
a solace, within remembrance -painful,
untimely - mostly, but undeniably worthwhile, for whomever instilled such feeling's within us performed a small miracle in our lives and thus, is worthy of every drop we shed and every smile we are gifted, as those tears - eventually, dry...
be strong my friend, your journey of loss may be long or short but its cost are worth paying, for the added value your beloved enriched your life with: is without doubt!
thank you for sharing Andy, an emotive write - truly
Thank you for your kind words Mek, my lover is always with me and always will be.
Andy
So beautiful to read and hear your story it is amazing how such items can hold such power over our emotions when they have belonged to a loved one.
Thank you Heather, it certainly shook me when I saw it.
Andy
Aw this is such a touching sentimental poem that you ought to enframe, its awesomely expressed and superbly written, how wifey's handbag reminded you of her, aw, i feel the feelings. But yes she is in a wonderful spirit world where there is no dementia. Kudos!!
Plz do read and comment my newest poem too.
Thank you szk, yes she is in that Spirit World where one day I will join her.
Andy
I understand how you feel Andy, but I also think it is beautiful that your daughter is using that handbag.
Thank you Fred, yes it is good that our daughter is using that handbag.
Andy
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