As with many mornings since you passed from our world into the next, I have watched as the night clouds are blown gently by the dawn breeze, I watch a sky lighten and fill with colour. And I think of you.
I make a cup of coffee , sit at the desk in the den. I look through the window to the trees, they take me on a trip.
There is the one that looks like it should be on plain in Africa, the one from the french countryside, the one that weeps along with me, that should be trailing her branches in the gentle waters of an english river.
Then there is the tree that is touched with the red of anger. It reminds me – it taunts me .
Soon there will be a flash of colour outside this window , one last burst of life and then barren branches reaching into a grey sky.
The life that is green and lush will fall and my eyes will once more see the homes of man rather than the homes of birds, who delight with their song each morning accompanying my tears.
The falling tears have splashed onto the top of this old desk for many months now, they too have left their mark , the varnish has softened, the protection gone leaving exposed the heart of the wood. There is no point in refinishing because tomorrow’s dawn will bring the same tears falling from eyes that cry for you.
Today is the day I am reminded I failed – I couldn’t hold back the falling of life from our branches.
A day that is bitter sweet- it was the day I became someone else , a mother of a son- a mother of promises- a mother who gave her little girl a brother to be with her always…… a mother who gave a father a son one to continue his name .
I remember, this day of all days, all the birthdays as I watch the sun come up on a world that no longer holds you –
I think of your last birthday – another waiting room, you sat slouched in a chair at the Cleveland Clinic waiting for a biopsy on the latest lump on your neck.
Your sister and I went to be with you, knowing in our heart of hearts this was not going to be the birthday that we wanted for you -trying to hide our thoughts and feelings from you . I know I didn’t succeed in that, and I am so sorry.
As your sister approached you looked into her eyes , she tried to smile and just said
It was day not celebrated with presents and laughter but tears and fear and now another “Birthday” a day filled with tears once again and longing and not knowing who I am . And the willow continues to weep as do I .
It is a “Birthday” lost
You were OUR gift and we love you with all of our broken hearts.