#loss

PUZZLES

They loved to work on puzzles…puzzles of every kind

anything they could do to help improve their minds.

 

He would sit beside her as they completed crosswords

(always the left side he would choose)

He would help her with the answers as she read out the clues.

 

They would sit day in…day out with him on her left flank….

and he loved to watch how with pen in hand she filled in all the blanks.

 

They loved their jigsaw puzzles.

They made sure each one read '500 pieces’ on the label

because any puzzle with more than that wouldn’t fit on their card table. 

 

As they neared completion of a puzzle…his participation would decrease…

always giving her the pleasure…of completing that last piece.

 

And even though they completed puzzles to help their minds stay strong

that doesn’t always mean in life…the mind will play along.

 

For we never know what Fate has in store…what Destiny may bring….

and one day he began to notice she was forgetting things…

 

It was sad when he began to notice…and sadder yet because he knew

there would come a day…when she would notice too.

 

“I’m afraid?”  she said one day in tears

What are we going to do?”

“Whatever happens.” he said taking her hand

I’ll be right here with you.

 

So life was the last puzzle they completed

and he constantly gave thanks

he was there to help find her missing pieces

to fill in all her blanks….

 

And he was there when their puzzle ended

there the day she died….

their hands fitting together like a puzzle

 

as he was seated by her side.



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THAT'S WHAT DADDY WOULD HAVE WANTED

WHAT DADDY WOULD HAVE WANTED

 

A teacher found a weathered copy of her poem…

And immediately reminisced…

for never had he read a poem…as sad or beautiful as this:

 

 

“I want you all to write a love poem,” He told his class,

“For love is beautiful…and grand…”

when he was interrupted by a student…who quickly raised her hand.

 

“My daddy was killed by a crazy person with a gun.” she said.

“How can I contemplate…

words of love and joy…

when I’m filled with so much hate?”

 

He had anticipated many questions…but this one…he never guessed…

He walked over, put his arms around her…and hugged her to his chest.

 

“When hate is all around us”, he said…”when bullets rain down from above…

That is the time we must fight hate…and search for words of love.”

 

“Look into your heart.” he said, ‘words of love are waiting there

words of love you will discover…words of love you’ll want to share.”

 

He returned to his desk amid silence…and during the interlude

the class all wrote their poems…in a quiet solitude…

 

He wasn’t sure what to expect until that night at home

when he came to her assignment entitled…

 

                                            This Is My Love Poem

 

My daddy used to talk about love…before he’d turn off my light…

He said love is a wonderful way to start the day…and the best way to say goodnight.

 

So I will try everyday to think in words of love…no matter what my fate

hoping the words of love I find…will overcome my hate…

 

I hope someday to discover the love I’m searching for…

For hate has won this battle…but I won’t let it win the war. 

 

Perhaps if words of love, instead of bullets, were falling from the sky

then love would finally vanquish hate…and no more Daddies would have to die.

 

Yes, hate has left me with a scar and my dreams will be forever haunted…

but I promise to try and look for love, because…

 

 

that’s what Daddy would have wanted.


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SOMETHING ABOUT HER SMILE

He was looking at a picture of his wife…thinking of their first date… first kiss…

and now that she is gone…all the things that he will miss…

 

“You look sad.” the young girl said to him as he sat upon ‘their’ rock

“Sometimes I get sad too.” she said…but he didn’t want to talk.

 

“Why are you here all by yourself?” He asked.

“What are you doing talking to me?”

“Don’t you have someplace else to go?”

“Someplace else you need to be?”

 

“Do you like ice cream?” she asked

“How long since you were born?”

“How dangerous is it to pet a snake?”

“Have you ever seen a unicorn?”

 

The old man tried his best not to answer…but there was something about her smile he adored…

and as the questions kept on coming…she was too hard to ignore.

 

“I’ve never seen a unicorn.” he said

“Snakes are dangerous…you know.”

“I like my ice cream chocolate…and I was born a long, long time ago.”

 

She kept asking questions because that’s what a little girl does

and as the old man kept responding he forgot how sad he was.

 

After a while from atop that rock he was now happily sitting on

he turned to thank the little girl

but he couldn’t

she was gone.

 

He looked but could not find her.

Where was she?

He didn’t know…but she took with her his sadness 

she took with her his woe.

 

“It can’t be…can it! he wondered after sitting there a while

and returning to the picture of his wife he nodded,

 

“I thought I recognized that smile."


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WHEN YOU LEAVE YOUR HEART BEHIND

She was seven when her family moved away…

She was sad…she didn’t know what to do

as she waved goodbye to all her friends

and the only home she ever knew.

 

Her parents said they have a nice new house

that she’d make new friends…

still she pined…

For how could she make new friends

when she left her heart behind?

 

 

They were married only 20 years

When his wife unexpectedly passed away…

He didn’t have time to say goodbye

To plead with her to stay…

 

Friends said he was still young

that he’d find another wife as gentle and as kind

but he knew that would be impossible

when he left his heart behind.

 

 

A loss of any kind is difficult…

when there is so much that we miss…

If there is anything we must remember…

we must remember this…

 

For anyone who experiences a loss

we must keep this in mind…

It’s never easy to move ahead

when you’ve left your heart behind.

 

So we must show them patience and love

For in their own time they will discover

That there is happiness ahead…

 

That their heart can and will recover.


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LET'S NOT SAY GOODBYE

 

When the time comes to say goodbye…when we reach that fateful day

I will not say goodbye to you…because there’s so much else to say…

 

As we stand upon that threshold…our time together…almost through…

I’d like to say how lucky I’ve been to know someone like you.

 

As I look at all our years together…still hoping we have more…

there are so many things about my life…I’d like to thank you for.

 

I’d like to thank you for every moment…every second that we shared.

I’d like to thank you for being with me when I’ve been brave or scared.

 

For the times we danced together, for the times you’ve eased my fears…

For the times we’ve sat in silence, for the time you’ve shared my tears.

 

For every walk we’ve ever taken, every song we’ve ever sung

For showing me as we grow old together…what it’s like to feel young.

 

For every time we laughed…for every time we cried.

For knowing whatever happened…you would be there by my side.

 

For all the wonders we’ve experienced,…for all our wonders unforeseen..

From our first place to our last place…and for all those places in between.

 

For the sunrises and sunsets we’ve enjoyed…for somehow having the knack

of taking me higher than I’ve ever imagined…to the moon, the stars and back.

 

No, I will not say goodbye…goodbye is final…so, if you please

let me say I love you…and send that upon the breeze…

 

and let it float until it finds you…I know not where or when….

and let it keep you company…until we meet again…


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Without You

The rain

Is too much to bear

With my shoulders

Carried down

My face awash with tears

 

The forest of death

Shadowed by building

And monsters in the place of men

The city is

Despair

 

A single thought

Spoken out

That killed a love

And a man

 

A single stone 

Always there

Above him

The messenger

Of fate

For all of us

 

I cry without strength

Iv'e fallen down

I don't wish to rise

My knees are home

I can't pray to the lie

Or the sky

Or a man

 

Death has taken him

And soon comes for me

Was it my fault

The wind reminds

Of all the words

Like knives

The knives he painted

A terrible beauty

His last work

Hiding his last

Words

A paper on the floor

Covered in pencil

Red

And regret

 

I couldn't have saved you

You said

I don't believe

You

No matter what you say

There is always 

A second road

 

A field

The one you loved

Where i loved you

 

A hill

No shade

Only sun

And

Blue

 

Only today

It's grey

Today

Is rain

Loss and grief

 

Taken by men

By me

Away

 

This day

Is death

I consider your path

At least then

I'd be sure

To see you again

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NEVER AT A LOSS

In August we left our house in Florida for 10 weeks in NC.

We didn’t prepare for a hurricane…(call it smug complacency).

 

Now we are safe and in our cabin just me and Deborah…(you may remember she’s she’s my spouse)

while a huge hurricane named Irma…is barreling toward our house.

 

Wherever you are…if you’re staying put, on the road or safely in NC

nothing makes you more nervous…than that cone of uncertainty…

 

We do not know what will happen…for us this is a first…

In our hearts we are expecting the best…but we’re ready for the worst.

 

All the times spent waiting and waiting as Irma slowly comes across

makes everyone anxious, edgy, scared…and definitely at a loss…

 

At a loss knowing all this anticipation is a kind of living hell…

At a loss to know what will happen to the places in which we dwell

 

At a loss knowing no weatherman or weather woman can totally assure

that our homes, our friends and families will be safe…will be secure…

 

So now we wait..we wait…we hope…we pray…we keep our fingers crossed

and hope that when Irma’s through with us…we have not experienced a loss…

 

But knowing, if we have, there are people who love us…people who care

who will help us find our way out…of our heartbreak and despair.

 

Who will help us through our struggles…who will help us find a seed

A seed of hope when we need it most…in our time of grief and need…

 

And there is our silver lining…knowing no matter what misfortunes we come across…

 

If we’re surrounded by people who love us…we are never at a loss


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The Human I Loved Is Dead

If you had asked her how she thought she would die back when she had been alive, she would probably tell you she would meet her end by way of her untrustworthy vehicle hugging a highway median in a speedy and lethal embrace, or perhaps that one day she would grow weary of Murphy's Law dictating her every move in life, and would bid this unjust world farewell; 

leaving only a tipped chair and swinging heels as her last grand gesture before the final curtain fell. 

 

She'd no doubt punctuate the statement with a wry smile and slight laugh, and you'd be left feeling slightly unsettled and then nervous for her wellbeing, even as you chuckled along with her. 

 

But for all the made up scenarios she could have told you, she would've never guessed that her demise would ultimately be met by way of accident in the tiny rented bedroom of a house she hated living in.

 

"I feel like a ghost here. They're barely aware of my presence at all. Maybe I prick their ears with the sound of a closing door, or the muted padding of my footfalls to the bathroom or kitchen turns their heads slightly. Who knows. I think I'm forgotten as soon as that moment ends, though"

 

A particularly sleepless night, losing count of the sleeping pills entering her mouth as the hours dragged on. Plucking her eyebrows to the soundtrack of her favorite video game; tinny noises playing through the speakers of her laptop, passing the time. 

Two here, three there. Now two more because it's been about an hour and she works in the morning. 

And so the fateful night went.

 

I suppose if she surveyed the situation now, she would be sorely disappointed. 

 

"For all the nights- heck, all the DAYS- I spent willing my life to end in the worst possible way, wishing my body could at least spare a few tears to make me feel alive...and I die because I wanted to sleep? What a waste. Even in death, I was cheated" 

 

It took them 3 days to find her. 

 

The scene was strangely normal for all the turmoil she'd so often confided in me to be in. Turns out, she put herself through much more in life than was actually necessary to bring her to death's doorstep. 

 

Her phone was left unchecked on the charging port, alarm still persistently reminding her to get ready for work; countless social media notifications pockmarked the screen with bright red.

 

Her room was an eyesore and a mess: diet pills and piles of unopened bills collected dust together on a cluttered dresser top. Beauty products lay strewn across every surface, including the floor. Cardboard moving boxes with words like "Christmas Ornaments" scrawled on the side held dirty dishes, on the other side of the room, fruit flies congregated atop a pile of old food left abandoned on a paper plate.

 

Then there was her. 

 

Laying on her stomach in bed, a single sheet draped over the lower half of her eerily still form. Face to the side, head cradled on a mascara stained pillow with no pillowcase. She could pass for sleeping if you didn't already know.

 

In death, she looked neither serene nor troubled. Just lifeless. 

 

Near her head on the nightstand, sat the fateful empty bottle of sleeping pills and a glass of water which mere days ago, had held the liquid that would ultimately wash down her last meal.

 

 

Death by diphenhydramine. 

 

 

"Good grief, what a silly way to go. I could write a story about that, you know"

 

Even now, I swear I can hear her voice in my ear. Laughing at me, correcting my grammar, telling me to lighten up as I write this. 

 

God, I wish you could've known her. 

 

I would give anything just to once more see the way her cheeks flushed when you complimented her, or how her eyes could hold so much obvious pain, yet her mouth could defy its existence and you'd somehow believe her when she said she was okay.

 

I never had the chance to see her happy; really, truly happy, and that has plagued me with tremendous guilt since I first got the call from her distressed parents.

 

I don't know if she would've taken her life by choice. I don't know that. I can't know that.

I know she spoke of it with an unnerving amount of frequency, but I always believed that the fire inside her burned just enough to keep her moving forward despite the misery she showed me, yet hid from the rest of the world.

 

Whenever the flames dimmed and only faint, glowing embers remained, I had made sure I was always there to softly breathe life into them, and sooner or later she'd find her resolve to keep going. 

 

But in the end, it only took a moment of my absence on an otherwise normal night, for a strong gust of wind to extinguish her flame completely. 

 

To smother out the delicate existence I had all but dedicated myself to preserving. 

 

The only thing I know with complete and unwavering certainty, is that night, the world was robbed of someone who had greatness in them that could have led revolutions. 

 

Yet she had tricked herself into believing she was worthless- 

 

"merely a cosmic dust bunny under the bed of this vast universe",

 

-and I think it finally caught up with her. 

 

All that untapped potential now lies buried under 6 feet of dirt in a stupid wooden box. She didn't deserve a box; she deserved the world and I failed to give it to her. 

 

Now I mourn that a man will never know what it is to love her, and a small handful of women will never get to experience what it really meant to call her 'friend'. 

 

She was so fierce and passionate about the real things in life- past all the bullshit and facades- she knew what was worth her love, and would do anything for those select few she held dear, even at the expense of her own wellbeing.

 

I can't make any more memories with her. I only have what she left me with, and although I've tried to keep them fresh in my mind, the years pass and I start to wonder what was reality and what is now merely fabrication of my experiences with her.

A feeble attempt by my aging mind to add years onto a life that was cut so short by the most unfortunate and preventable of circumstances.

So much time has passed, but some nights she still visits me in my dreams, and we just talk. Trying desperately to make up for the lost years she should've spent by my side in one night.

 

When I wake from those dreams, my pillow is damp and my throat constricts painfully as I come to realize I'm still alone, and she's still gone. 

 

There are so many unknowns, even all this time later.

Questions that will never have answers. 

It took a lot of years for me to come to terms with knowing that and also being okay with it. 

 

She was always something of a mystery, and the way she left me only further served to prove that there really was no figuring her out. 

 

I only know I miss her every day. 

 

 

"I'm tired of people trying to somehow solve me. You know, figure me out as if I'm a Rubik's cube or a math problem. You don't ask where the wind comes from and why it does what it does. You simply let it cool your face on a hot summer day, or admire how it bends the stalks of flowers and makes the leaves of the mightiest trees tremble at its touch. 

 

I am the wind" 

 

 

G. Bosquez 

6/13/2015 

3:03 AM