Too Often The Sadness
Too often the sadness, that never seems to be far away, returns to steal the brief interludes of happy, that often, yet intermittently presides. It’s a constant and unending battle, a tug of war with a formidable opponent: Death. The inevitability of one’s own demise is supplanted by the torturous agony of mind and space altering thoughts of the untimely and incomprehensible loss of my only child.
Too often the sadness, that grips my heart and mind and the very core of me, plays such a taunting game of self-doubt within, the fear of madness is unbearably overpowering.
Too often the sadness, that creeps in and clouds even the brightest days, makes me inclined to think of going to that safe place of sleep, only to awaken to the assurance that my Coki’s death was only a very, very long and bad dream.
Too often the sadness, like a pressure system of tornadic winds, overpowers me, twists and tangles my thoughts and dishevels my prayers, then slips away- somewhere, wherever storms begin, only to regain gale force strength to devour the shattered pieces of my broken heart.
Too often the sadness, once pondered now understood, enables me to unravel the cliché “that if I could I would trade places with her.” If I could have taken away her pain, if I could have saved her from her death, this writing would not have come to pass.
06 September, 2012