Month: September 2017

The Bagpipe and the Turtle Dove

A. Katie Helms

Said the Bagpipe
to the Turtle Dove,
At a Graveside Service,
one Day…
“I work so hard to wail out Love,
With the Comforting Tunes I Play….
My Drones they Hum out Words of Peace…
But You…
You just Fly Away…”

“My wings, they Sing”…
the Dove replied.
“As I Soar away the Tears,
The Tears of Humans who’ve Recently Cried,
For their Loved Ones So Endeared…

I Lift their Hearts,
As I take My Flight…
I remind them of the Soul…
with its New Life,
As it Flies to the Heaven’s…
The Heavenly Heights…
Paradise as their Goal…”

“I See, My Colleague…”
the Pipe agreed
“Then together we shall Bring…
Comfort and Hope in our Melodies Sweet,
To the Families and the Friends…
and We Will Give Wings….
To the Memories Of the Dearly Departed…
and the Legacy….
That we Honor…
as WE Sing…”

 

A Change in My Journey: The Other Side of Grief

Lee Ann Christ, Brian’s Mom

I was cleaning the engraved bench at Brian’s gravesite the other day and the greenish spots on it weren’t coming off so well. I decided to call the company we got it from and ask their advice, as the weather has left its mark over the years. Once home I opened the large bin housing that kind of information-stark, administrative things from the funeral home, the treatment center, insurance and tax related papers, things that could probably be shredded now after 13 years. I found the number, called them and got an answer to the cleaning question.

Also in the bin were personal things like all the many cards & letters we received and the book of entries of people’s feelings and sentiments. I sat down and started looking through them.

What I didn’t expect to find was myself as an observer, reading about Brian from other’s viewpoints and not necessarily being a part of their memories. I was a reader of his story, not the one protecting and nurturing it.

I think I was able to see their loss, through their eyes, for the first time. I had been through those cards and letters many times in the 13 years since he died of an accidental heroin overdose. My grief had been at the forefront as I read through things. It was painful and so done in a self focused way.

As I slowly read through them this time, each letter shined a light on that person’s relationship with him, their cherished moments and their loss.

It wasn’t about me and I wept for them. It was a small change in my journey.

Other things in the bin were a few pieces of Brian’s clothing, a college tee shirt and a HS Wrestling jacket. I clutched the shirt to my chest as I read the letters. I have other items of his but the small amount of clothing he had, I gave away to his friends or to a homeless shelter he had pointed out to me one day.

Two years ago I finally decided that I would part with his red fleece REI jacket that I also kept and had hanging in our coat closet. He had worn it constantly in the cold weather. It said Brian all over it. I would put it on every once in awhile to feel closer to him, but no one was using it.

I put it in the car with a scarf and gloves in the pockets and looked for someone who needed it. It was a bitterly cold winter and weeks went by and I saw no one. I was determined it was important to actually give it away to someone.

One day driving along I saw a young man walking on the sidewalk across the road in the direction I was driving. It was below 30 degrees & very windy that day. He had on jeans and a short sleeve tee shirt with his arms inside the shirt’s arms to keep warm. I did a quick u-turn and pulled over to his side, hoping he would walk by. When I spotted him I put down the window and asked if he could “use these things”, holding the coat and scarf up to the window. He scrambled to get them and was so thankful & humble. I watched in the mirror as he put them on and walked away, much warmer and a little more protected.
I wept.

Brian has helped me see other people’s needs much more clearly. It’s not always about me.