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dreamprayact

~ Reflections of a preacher, poet, and contemplative activist

dreamprayact

Monthly Archives: March 2021

Let the birds sing

24 Wednesday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

courage, death, grace, grief, healing, holy, joy, Listening, morning light

Let the birds sing
in early morning light

Let breezes sweetly whisper
through the trees at midday

Let clouds drift lazily
across a buoyant spring sky

Let the sun’s brilliance
gild rugged hillsides nearby

And let it all remind me
that this day is holy

Let friends call
and listen tenderly to my pain

Let strangers offer
a kind word or gesture

Let hours pass
and leave no trace of regret

Let this day unfold
with a gentleness born of grace

And let it all remind me
that this day is holy

There is no denying
this world looks different to me now
my future blurred by uncertainty
love’s healing work barely begun
and the cruel finality of death
no longer merely an idea

But let the birds sing in the morning
let friends be present by my side
let moments of contentment quietly come
let memories wash over me like a balm
let joy one day follow these days of mourning
let healing imperceptibly take root and grow

And let it all remind me
if I have the courage to see it
that this day indeed is holy

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson

A world ended on this day

19 Friday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Blessings, death, empathy, grief, loss, mortality, trauma, vulnerability

A world ended on this day

January 27, 2021

I didn’t truly understand before
how deep loss can pull you under
how traumatic death can feel
how it ends a world

I knew that death was profoundly painful
for the ones left behind
I knew it was life-altering
I knew it was accompanied by many tears
and heart-stopping screams in the night
and even cursing of the darkness
but I didn’t really understand

I knew that life is fragile
that our days are not guaranteed
that while we bear the divine image
we live in mortal bodies
and that it can all end in an instant

I knew that I wanted to show others empathy
that I wanted to accompany them in their pain
and that because of my calling 
I was a visible reminder of the holy
whenever I visited the dying or grieving
but I didn’t really understand

A world ended for me this day

January 27, 2021

While the world around me carried on
as though nothing had happened
my world collapsed
it burned itself out
it shut itself down
it ended

My world was you and me
in all the sacred messiness of our relationship
in all the hopefulness for life yet to be lived
in all the simple joys of faithful companionship
in all the blessings of traveling this road together

Then in a moment it was gone

And I finally began to understand

Had I tried to imagine the searing pain
the throbbing heartache
the sickening permanency
that accompanies such a loss
I doubt I could have

Empathy only reaches so far

So here I am
wounded
disoriented
vulnerable
frightened
alone

A world ended for me this day
It was the world with you, my beloved, in it

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson
March 18, 2021

Morning memory

16 Tuesday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death, dying, grief work, love, marriage, memory

Photo credit: Sallie Woodring

In the morning
as you cautiously rise
from your side of the bed
I am there.

I am waiting
hoping
it has been a restful night. 

You are out of breath
from the simple act of sitting up. 
You are tired
in more ways than anyone can know.

Yet your smile reaches out
and melts me.
Will I remember
the feeling
of this moment?

Memory is imperfect
when up against the complex beauty
of a human soul.
Memory only goes so far
and then you want nothing less
than to be in the presence again
of the one you love.

You are sitting there
on your side of the bed
and motion me to come near.
The nearness
is the most comforting
to you
as well as me.

You lean forward
placing your head against my chest
and rest
and breathe
quietly
prayerfully
beautifully

and then
you raise your head
and look into my eyes
and I into yours
and without words
we are reassured
love is here.

Our vows
till death do us part
will soon reach their consummation
and yet love only increases
and mystifies me
in its tenacious hold over me.

You are the rest of me
you said to me more than once
and I truly believe it
for in those eyes
I get lost
in you
for all time.

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson
For my beloved Dallis
March 16, 2021

Attending to the broken places

10 Wednesday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

breast cancer, Cancer, grief, healing, woundedness, writing to heal

Eight years after her initial stage-4 breast cancer diagnosis, my wife Dallis, the love of my life, succumbed to this horrible disease. She made a valiant and determined effort to live, and thoroughly enjoyed all the remaining days and years she was given, and yet on January 27 of this year, she breathed her last breath with me and her daughter Wendy by her side. Since then, my emotions and frame of mind have been swinging wildly all over the place, and I write to give voice to the internal struggles I feel and to try to make sense of my place in the world now that she is gone. Here is something I wrote a few days ago, and then let sit for a while before sharing. I wouldn’t read it if I were you!

Attending to the broken places
(Just when you thought it was safe to read my writings)

Among the questions that grip me and won’t let go are:
How was it possible for her to leave me?
How could she say goodbye to our shared life?
How was she able to give up on our future dreams?

The very questions trouble me, 
for they sound like accusations.
They also sound unanswerable, 
and yet not considering them hurts too.

My intellect tells me that my beloved 
needed to choose personal agency
over the constant intrusions of medical necessity.
Her quality of life had deteriorated so much
that no other path seemed tolerable.

In a sense, she had no choice but to say to everyone, 
including those dearest to her,
enough is enough:
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I feel more like a bundle of problems to be tackled
than the living, breathing human being
who once found so much joy in being alive!

Still, the questions haunt me:
How was she able to pull it off?
Was my love for her too little to hold her here –
at least long enough
to bring her nearer to a time a healing,
to tip the scales toward life and wholeness?

And lamentably there are other unanswerable questions:
How did she think I would feel when she was gone?
What did she suppose would be left of me without her?
Did she not imagine how abandoned I would feel?

In case there’s any doubt,
this is me stumbling around 
in the murky land of self-pity and blame.
This is me doubting myself and the adequacy of my love.
This is, in other words, 
the ugly, petty underside of grief
where it’s all about me,
all about my struggle to breathe again,
all about my pain,
my sorrow,
my emptiness
palpable in every room
every movement
every decision
every discarded dream
every flood of tears.

So, I urge you to avert your eyes.
This is the pathetic, needy portion of grief.
There is nothing lovely here,
nothing beautiful,
nothing worthy of admiration.
Only sad proof of all the broken places 
where my wounded heart now lives.

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson
March 7, 2021

An Agreement (to get through this day)

05 Friday Mar 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

affections, commitment, death, grieving process, love, memories, mortality, will to live

Dal and I in Santa Fe, New Mexico, November 2018


Let us be in agreement that death is a thief 
that robs us of what we most cherish. 

It may be the natural passage from this human life,
it may be what is expected out of this crash course we call living,
it may be the final remedy for being chronically mortal,
but it robs us, nonetheless.

Let us be in agreement that death does not treat us kindly.

It creates a gaping hole in our lives that cannot be filled,
it turns us inside out and upside down in our grief,
it brings us to our knees where we can only beg for mercy,
and it stings with deadly force.

Let us be in agreement that death takes no prisoners.

It causes us to question the worth of our own lives,
it guilts us into wondering why we live when our loved one does not,
it menaces us with our own imminent demise,
and it cares not at all about trampling on our will to live.

Yet let us also be in agreement
that death can never have the last word.

It cannot sever love’s bonds forged through unbroken daily loyalties,
it cannot break apart the commitments we have made to one another,
it cannot steal our memories of our beloved’s beautiful being,
it cannot annul our deep affections for the one we have loved and lost,
it cannot silence the resilient song of love in our hearts,
it cannot prevent us from choosing to love still.

Even though it hurts beyond imagining,
death does not have the final word –
love is stronger than death!

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson
March 5, 2021

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