#Reverb14: Certainty

Take a quiet moment to consider: what can you say right now with certainty?

 

Opening the brown cardboard box my breathing instinctively slows and with a deep breath, I lift out the tree, bound in burlap with a red bow, the one you bought for me.

Straightening branches and adjusting lights, I feel the tenuous link to Christmases past, the ones with you in them.  The lights blur and in a teary haze, I see you.  Somehow, you found the strength to give us that last Christmas Day for sixteen days later you would breathe your last breath.

Time nudges me forever forward but there is one thing I am certain of . . . I will always love you.

Linking up with #Reverb14

Love In The Time Of Melancholy

my heart shatters
at the pitch of you

jagged shards of F sharp blues
a melancholy chord
soul bound strung

in words
    in notes
        it's all the same

innuendos instrumental
in the rhythm of blame
crescendo's dulcet irony

your feet rumble a beat
of lock stock and barrel
in a distant key
 

Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poets United

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Feeling The Love: New At Dyche Designs Studio

Love Grows

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Love Grows

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Chicago: Part III

On our last day we decided to visit both the Shedd Aquarium and the Fields Museum.  They were incredible and I'd love to revisit them, especially as you could spent a whole day in each one alone.

 

The jelly fish exhibit was fantastic, almost made me like them!

 

I love seahorses and found myself drawn to them several times while we were there.  They are the most beautiful creatures and have an air of magic to them.

 

Unfortunately I didn't get many photos at the Fields Museum but it is phenomenal.  I can't recommend it highly enough.  We got to meet Sue, their resident T-Rex, and I just loved all the bones, mammals and totem poles they had on display.

There were so many highlights over the course of our anniversary weekend but the best would have to be the poem that my husband wrote for me.  I should mention that when we got married I gave him a silver pocket watch with the words 'hand in hand as we walk in the white sand' engraved on it.

 

Hand - together warmed by loving touch in the mittens

In- love from a shake through the years with increasing smitten

Hand - with a ring, look at me, with blue eyes filled in emotion

As - I look deep within, first time, an inkling more than a notion

We - one from that moment, relentlessly, lovingly build the flame

Walk - the winding path through valleys of joy, hills of pain

On - towards future unknown but built together and united

The - love shared anticipation,  like a child again, excited

White - has started but will be complete with bond even stronger

Sand - of time, my love, for you today, everyday,  will last longer

 

by my wonderful husband, Bryan Dechairo

I Kissed A Killer

 

I first met you, behind bars

in that instance I fell in love

with your dark hair and eyes

the most expressive shade of brown

I must have kissed you

a thousand times or more

but today . . . . .

today I kissed a killer

you took the life of another
aggressively, violently
shaking, shaking, shaking
your ancestors loose

all I could do was watch
the light leave his eyes
my heart breaking in two

at the dichotomy of you

Between The Lines

believing in love as a universal language
until I met you, finding ourselves
in a paradox of our own making
for we were inept at communication
the accent all wrong

I . . .

unable to see the words "I Love You"
through the lyrics of a song

you . . .

unable to hear the words "I Love You"
penned of emotions laid bare on paper

each failing to connect the dots
to read between the lines of longing and denial
trapped in a dance of mixed signals and flirtation
 

Linking up with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Love Is . . . . .

 

. . . warming cold feet on yours

. . . holding hands as we sleep

. . . morning breath and bed hair

. . . knowing each others stories

. . . never leaving the toilet seat up

. . . foot rubs and back massages
. . . letting each other be

. . . a heartfelt smile

. . . a goodbye kiss
. . . a shared look

. . . being there

. . . believing

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For your chance to win a copy of  'The Edge Of Silence: a collection of poetry and prose' click HERE.

 

Love/Hate

 

love

hot, passionate

strong, intense, consuming

romance, tenderness, friendship, indifference,

deceiving, animosity, manipulating

hard, cold

hate

 

 

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New From Dyche Designs Studio

Sea of Love

10"x10" Mixed Media Art Painting

 

Love

6"x6" Mixed Media Wood Panel

 

Migraine City

7"x5" Mixed Media Art Painting

Love Connections

Love Bug

The vet always asks me how Connor manages to stay so clean.  It's probably because he's an indoor cat and spends a lot of time washing himself.

 

 

He's quite the snuggle partner.  Not only does he like to hog my blankets but also likes to curl up in the crook of my legs while I'm lying on the sofa.

 

 

Out of everyone in this house he has the best personality.  He's never grumpy and is such a love bug, he always makes me smile.

 

 

Right now he is curled up on my lap, purring away, kneading my leg and lifting his head for kisses.

 

 

His fur is a nightmare and gets absolutely everywhere but that's a small price to pay for such a bundle of love.

 

If only the other three animals were as easy to live with!

He Would Not Let Me Go

This post was difficult to write and describes one of the darkest moments of my life.  If it wasn't for my husband I doubt I would be sitting here today sharing these words with you.

 

Hot metal spikes stab deep into my cheek bone with the force of a pneumatic drill.  Meat hooks tear at my flesh and the weight of the large rotting carcass they carry suddenly overpowers me.  My whole world is turned upside down as though Quentin Tarantino and Roald Dahl have cast me in a sinister version of 'The Twits'.

 

In this altered state of reality everything appears normal but is anything but.  Badly furnished doctors’ offices become the norm where the ticking of the clock is always too loud and time takes on the appearance of a bad car wreck.  The waiting is almost as unbearable as the pain.

 

While my house begins to resemble a small pharmacy, and the list of side effects I experience reads like a bad novel, I acknowledge that now is not the time to be an anomaly.

 

Blood work and tests, CT scans and MRI's, surgery and acupuncture . . . . . nothing alleviates the pain and I feel the blackness closing in, trapping me in some kind of living hell.

 

Days turn into weeks, weeks roll into months and the sofa becomes my life raft.  I cling to it desperately . . . . . sleep my only respite.

 

For over a year his grip remained strong.  Even as my fingers weakened and I began to lose all hope his determination never faltered . . . holding on . . . holding the two of us, knowing that if he could keep going we'd find a way through.

 

Misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis eventually led them to a label . . . . 'Atypical Facial Neuralgia' also commonly referred to as the 'Suicide Disease'.  Not that giving it a name helped.

 

Every direction I took I faced yet another road block and the blackness continued to close in. Not the comforting black of a night sky but a thick dark all consuming black that wrapped its gnarly fingers around me, choking the air from my lungs and plunging me into depths I'd only ever heard about in hushed whispers.

 

The person I was no longer existed.  No thoughts.  No feelings.  Just excruciating pain and whether I had the strength to make it through one more minute.

 

With no obvious way through I wanted out and so I began to let go . . .  to release my grip.  First one finger, then another but I could hear something in the distance.  It was a voice.  It was his voice telling me "you are strong”, "you are the brave".

 

I was slipping, slipping, slipping.  My fingernails bloody and broken from trying to claw my way back . . . my muscles tired and weak from the long fight.  Every fiber of my being wanted to let go but that voice was like a niggle that I just couldn't shake.

 

Then up ahead I saw a flash of light. Not in the aaaaaah, singing angels kind of way but more a twinkle of light that you know deep down holds the promise of hope.  Moving towards it I held my hand to my eyes, shielding them from the sudden brightness and there he was saying "you are strong", "you are bravest person I know".  What he didn't realize was that it was his own strength and his own bravery that saved me.

 

Cross-posted over at Jason's blog 'Love Letters & Suicide Notes'.

The Gift Of 'I Love You'

 

Telling my parents how much I loved them, the kisses, the cuddles, the tickling and laughter . . . it was all so easy as a young child.  Then childhood gave way to teenage years and suddenly saying "I love you" was no longer cool.  Kisses and hugs given only under protest (if at all).

 

Entering my 20's brought a different perspective and I found that hugging and kissing loved ones was ok again.  The "I love you's" though, somehow they were harder.  I could put them in writing but whenever someone said those three words the best I could do was reply "me too".

 

The year I turned 30 was a tough one.  I thought he would always be there but I guess Cancer had other ideas.  Holding my dad's hand in his final moments, the words "I love you" were suddenly held hostage by my sobs.  When someone is dying hearing is the last sense to go.  I wish I could have found my voice that day and whispered those words to him as he left us.

 

His death was a wake up call in so many ways but saying "I love you" was an important one.  It made me realize what a gift those three little words can be.  Now I'm left wondering why I never said it more and if my dad were alive today I wouldn't hesitate to tell him how much I love him followed swiftly by a big kiss and a hug.

Happy Birthday Dad and thank you for the gift of "I Love You".