I don’t like quiet. I used to love to have quiet. No radio, TV, any kind of noise. Just peace and quiet. Then death came knocking again at my door and took my daughter. No I can’t stand quiet. When my mind is quiet – the Devil talks. I start thinking why am I still trying to make a go of it here. What in the hell is the purpose behind all this loss? When will it be my turn to stop this cruel existence? Still no answer! Did I really think I’d get an answer? Yes! I’m just that bold.

I wrote a poem a year or so ago about the quietness of my house. It’s like death hanging all around. The darkness of my heart draped over a once happy and well-lite heart now keeps me from enjoying quiet. Quite makes me think. Quite makes me cry. Quite makes me wish for the end. Quite is slowing killing me.

I don’t like noise either. I do keep the tv on most of the time because it drowns out the bad thoughts. The painful thoughts. When will those be replaced with happy thoughts. In time I have read that the memories I have that make me cry now, will be less painful as time goes by. I find that hard to believe, but I also cling to that hope.

I lean on God when it gets really bad. As I know it will this weekend – Mother’s Day. I am going to stay very busy and avoid the public and hope that it passes without hearing much about it. Mother’s Day holds nothing but pain and anguish for me. That is my reality – like it or not.

I pray daily for guidance and for mercy. I pray it comes soon.

until next time

m