I know the story behind this one. I know this story very well. This is a story worthy of prayers … a lot of prayers. Prayers for hope, prayers for healing, prayers for strength, prayers for miracles. It’s all needed. My friends need them, as many as they can get.
Broken and torn, shattered
shards of dreams and promises litter the floor
inflicting new pain as we step through the memories
progress, hindered by repetition of the unknown and the unwanted.
Agony, punctuated by tears
what happened? why this? why him? please wake up!
this isn’t where we’re supposed to be
remorse for what has been lost, fear of what is to come.
The loved and the loving
stand helpless and unappeased
watching lives dissolving in torrents of wet grief
mouths incapable of finding words to match the depth of the heart.
Trust, believe and fight, fight, fight
there is a plan, a purpose not yet revealed
counsels echo through the hours in the struggle for hope
and he reaches out to touch the hem of a beautiful cherished robe.
– December 10, 2012
Last August, on the eve of my birthday, we learned that my partner of…
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