As the news showed the images
of the devastation of the midair crash in DC
followed by a jet crash in Philadelphia two days later,
my heart ached for the lives that were cut short,
and for their family and friends who were
entering a nightmare not of their choosing.
Having lived through the sudden death of my husband,
the life I knew was altered, unrecognizable
as my heart lay on the floor, shattered.
No longer could I see the tragedies of the world
as numbers, but as individuals whose lives
would never be the same again.
For it was in my awakening from the searing pain of grief,
that I recognized all of humanity is intertwined.
That we are meant to be with each other,
holding each other in compassion.
I couldn’t sit on the sidelines
in the face of others’ pain,
whether it was from the death of a loved one
or other losses caused by unforeseen life changes.
I knew I couldn’t take away their agony,
but I could share the gifts I had,
hoping to bring some comfort,
no matter how small.
Tag: life changes
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We Are All Connected
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Stumbled Upon: Embracing Life’s Unplanned Adventures
When I sit down to write my autobiography,
I will title it Stumbled Upon.
For it is this unplanned life
that sent me veering onto a path
of unimaginable adventures.
Often, I was catapulted by a lifequake*,
brought on by the death of my husband,
which left me adrift.
And yet, I somehow found my footing.
The steps were heavy amid the grief,
but I kept walking and my steps grew lighter.
Photography became a saving grace,
as a continued bond to my husband,
and kept me in the present moment
when my eye was focused in the viewfinder.
From capturing the beauty of nature to
going to bars, something I hadn’t done since I was in my twenties,
to photograph musicians as they played
opened a forgotten part of my life that brought
me both joy and finding kind people I call friends.
By using my photography email, I ended up
being the photographer for the Phoenix Film Festival.
I’d never done event photography,
but my saying yes to the unknown
opened the world of independent films,
filmmakers, and new friendships
with festival attendees and volunteers.
All these experiences led me to participate in
a storytelling event on how my life had come
full circle with my husband, photography and music.
I stood on a stage where I had spent so many
hours capturing musicians at work,
sharing my story by heart
with a few butterflies stirring in my stomach.
As time goes on, and I adjust
to my body’s capabilities,
I have found new ways to feed the creative beast that lives within.
Now, I spend my days expressing myself with art and improv.
The beauty of letting go of a planned life
is the richness that I never imagined
and the communities that I have become a part of.*Lifequakes is a term coined by Bruce Feiler in his book Life is in the Transitions: Mastering Change at Any Age
Photo credit: Neil Schwartz
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This Fragile Life
I thought the earth was solid,
That even the craziness of life had meaning
Until the day I sat next to your lifeless body,
My heart shattered, tears streaming down my face.No longer could I take a step without
The ground shaking under my feet,
Wondering if I would be able to navigate
this foreign landscape that made no sense.Time, as I knew it, no longer existed
As I watched people rush by like
They hadn’t felt the tectonic plates shift
Knowing that they could drop into the abyss at any moment.The fog washed over me as I tended to death’s chores.
The worst were the calls to say that you were dead.
No one wants to hear those sorrowful words
That were screaming in my soul.I wasn’t prepared to pick out funeral homes,
Or how many people I would have to speak with
To arrange my life without you.
The never-ending paperwork that said you no longer existed.Your death changed me,
Splitting my world into before and after.
Thirteen years ago, can seem like yesterday
When I’m hit by a trigger that reminds me
that you’re never coming back. -
Living With Your Memories
In my mind, I travel to a place where
My passport is no longer valid,
And will not provide me with admittance.
I look through the window that contains
Only memories of the place that
Once was my safe harbor called home.
Of the arms and hearts of my parents who loved me,
But are no longer alive.I see the home decorated for birthday parties,
My dad making sure his girls had pretty party dresses
Where even our dog was dressed up for the festivities.
The yard full of neighborhood kids and cousins,
A swing set where ghost stories were told,
A rabbit hutch that was transformed into a clubhouse,
and summer carnivals with games and the best homemade fudge.I see the joy of trips to Piseco Lake,
And the cabin that would be home for a week.
Canoe rides to the island in the middle of the lake,
And nights at the dump nearby,
With the hopes of spotting bears
From the shelter of our station wagon.The annual trip to Cayuga Lake with my mom and siblings,
and my maternal aunt with her two youngest children.
We stayed in cabin 8, the biggest cabin with two bedrooms,
Though the bathrooms and showers were down the road.The sadness of my father leaving Sunday night to return to work in Syracuse
Would soon be filled with days when other relatives would visit,
And we would be free range children,
swimming in the lake and fishing from the pier,
catching sunfish and throwing them back into the lake
for someone else’s hook to snare them.
Buying candy at the little shop down the road,
And exploring places that we weren’t supposed to go.The longing for my parents and the grounding that they provided
Is something that I’m still learning to grasp.
When I return to the city of my birth,
With a hole in my heart that cannot be fixed.
The house that held these memories
Means nothing without the souls
Who once dwelled there. -
Astrophilia
(n.) rare love and obsession with planets, stars, and outer space
Transport me to the cosmos,
Past the moon and the known planets
To the wonder of the galaxies that lay
Beyond our Milky Way.
Oh, to be free of the bonds of gravity,
The smallness of life that boxes me in
And the harsh realities that wound my soul.
The images of space call to me,
With their majesty and glory.
Who, in their infinite wisdom, could create
A paradise of newly forming stars,
Emitting bright red gases 1,300 light years from earth.
These offspring are only 100,000 years old,
Mere youths in the universe that sprang to life 13.8 million years ago.
As I gaze upon these photographs sent back from deep space,
I’m filled with hope and wonder.
That I’ve been placed on this planet, to shine brightly,
To feel the pain when my worlds collide, morphing me
Into a unique being, with remnants of the star I was.
Ever changing, growing, searching for
My new dwelling place in the world.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 