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dreamprayact

~ Reflections of a preacher, poet, and contemplative activist

dreamprayact

Tag Archives: grief

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

The sting of death

26 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

death, end of life, grief, life after loss, one flesh, woundedness

Tomorrow will be one month since Dal died. In all of our nineteen years together we were never apart for more than two weeks. This is our longest separation and it’s only going to grow longer. I cannot make sense of it. I appear to be alive – I’m breathing by some miracle, I’m seeing friends and talking to people, I’m walking the dog, I’m eating occasionally, although I’ve lost twenty pounds – yet I don’t feel very alive. Contrary to the Bible, death does in fact sting! Not only does it sting, but it renders the one left behind feeling mortally wounded.

Dal and I talked about the end of life sometimes, and we always agreed that we needed to go out together because neither of us could imagine life without the other. We understood the foolishness of this thinking, of course; nonetheless, it was our way of naming how deeply connected we felt to one another, as though we were one flesh. Indeed, we were, and that flesh has been torn asunder.

The reality is, as I sit here in this home we created together, as I contemplate this life we built together, as I recall the future we dreamt of together, it all keeps coming back to this – I don’t know how to live in this world without her, not really. I can’t see the way forward. I can’t imagine ever feeling whole again. Often, I’m not even sure I have the desire to live. What’s the point? This is not me being suicidal. It’s me plumbing the depths of my grief where my desire to live lies beaten and bloodied, struggling to get back up. 

Ashes

22 Monday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

ashes, earth, eternity, grief, mortality, weeping

Ashes to ashes
dust to dust
take on new meaning
when the phone rings
and a cheerful voice on the other end
informs me that my wife’s ashes are ready

ready to be picked up
ready to be brought home
ready to remind me of all I have lost
ready to humble me before my own mortality
ready to make me weep at the sight of them
ready to strip me down to my core
ready to reveal the naked truth

our bodies return to earth’s body
our finished flesh is accepted back into earth’s sacred folds
we are never merely our own
we are made of star dust and earth dust
we live in eternity’s flow

ashes to ashes
dust to dust

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson

The only thing to do

18 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

death, devotion, grief, loss, sorrow

There is no adequate consolation right now
There is no this is going to get better
There is no lessening of the sorrow
I cannot see the path forward
Only darkness, nothingness
I see no future
No home for me
Not without my beloved
Though I am told there is one

I am also told she lives now in my heart
Or that she lives on in the memories we made
Or that she will always be with me in spirit
None of which is enough right now
I want her
Her body, her mind, her sprightly spirit
Only her presence soothes me
Only she gives a day meaning beyond itself

Being a partner with her in life meant everything
She was my safe harbor in the storm
She knew me better than anyone ever has
She loved me fiercely in spite of my shortcomings
She was protective of me and of our love
She spoke so endearingly to me and about me
In the absence of these, who am I

Most of all she made my heart sing
Especially watching her love this life
A life we were creating together
And seeing her revel in genuine friendships
And laughing with such ease
And appreciating the small gifts hidden within each day
And hearing her tender words to me
And tasting her sweet lips
And feeling her body next to mine
There is no consolation for losing these things
There is no adequate measure to the loss I feel

In the meantime,
I will get up in the mornings as best I can
I will look for life wherever I can find it
If only for you, sweetheart
I will remember our devotion to one another
I will not lose sight of how deeply you loved me
I will grieve, and then grieve some more
It is the only thing to do
It is the only thing
You, Dally, make my heart sing
Though for now the song is awash in tears

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson

A letter to my love

11 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

death, dying, grief, love, marriage, peace

Dallis & I on the Big Island November 2014
(Photo: Wendy Granger)

My dear Dallis,

Sweetheart, I know I told you as you were dying that everything would be okay … that I would be okay … but it was a lie. I don’t like lying to you and I didn’t intend to do so; I was just trying to convince myself, and I was telling you what I thought you needed to hear so that you could let go and be released from a body that was failing you. But now I am utterly heartbroken. I feel completely lost without you. I want so badly to hear your voice again. I want to kiss your lips. I want to hold you and be held by you.

What touched my life so thoroughly during our love affair and marriage is how you would look at me with such affection in your eyes it melted my heart. You brought me to tears so many times just by being honest with me about how you felt. We told each other our deepest truths. We relied on one another to always care most about the other. 

I can’t believe how lucky I was to have you in my life for nineteen years. If I had known sooner that our time together was nearing the end, I would have stopped working earlier and devoted all my time to you … to us! I would have reveled all the more in your smile and laugh. I would have asked you to tell me more about the greatest joys of your life, all the way back. I would have wanted to watch your New Zealand slides with you, and have you regale me about that favorite adventure of yours, years before we met.

I would also have wanted to hear more about the places of pain and disappointment in your life, many of which I know about and others I imagine were left unsaid.

This grief hurts beyond imagining. I feel like I’m dying inside. I struggle just to do the simplest things and get through each day.

I wish there was a way to communicate with you, my beloved. I write these thoughts I’ve been thinking and wish I could get this message to you. You were the very one I needed in my life. You cheered my successes, savored our relationship, and gave me every bit of yourself to love and enjoy. You were my anchor, my safe haven, my source of lightheartedness and joy. 

I’m trying to figure out how to live without you near to me, your physical presence that is. I have never been through more painful days than these. A heavy sadness follows me everywhere, even to sleep. Nothing in my life experience compares to this aching I feel in body, mind and spirit.

Dallis, my beautiful one, it is my deepest hope that you are where there is no more pain and no more crying, and where you know deep and abiding peace. I also hope to see you often in my dreams.

You will always have my love,

Mark

When memories won’t do

08 Monday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

absence, comfort, faith, grief, memories

This is the hardest day yet.
I am worth nothing today.
The grief has gotten hold of me
and won’t let go.
There is an empty void
nothing and no one is able to fill.
It follows me around.
I want to go back to sleep
and wake up in the past.

My grief is complicated
by the fact that in my line of work
our lives are set forth as examples
of faith being lived out
in good times and in bad.
What if my faith isn’t holding up that well today?
What if I’m more than a little pissed with God?
What then?

As I hear from good people
trying to offer me solace
they don’t realize there is none to be found.
All the greeting card talk
of being comforted by memories
leaves me feeling comfortless
in these moments when it’s not memories I want.

I want her to peek around the corner and smile.
I want her hug that lingers and won’t let me go.
I want to hear her voice again calling me.
I want her laugh, unique and contagious.
I want her …
not memories of her …
but her.

This is where I am in this moment …
for better or for worse …
with tear-flooded eyes!
Dallis, my heart aches for you.

~ Mark Lloyd Richardson

Is this grief?

03 Wednesday Feb 2021

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in grief, Reflections

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

breast cancer, grief

A week ago, today, my beloved wife Dallis died.
Eight years after being diagnosed with Stage-4 breast cancer
suddenly she is gone.
She’s not sitting across the table from me at breakfast.
She’s not dancing in the living room to her favorite songs.
She’s not laughing on the phone with a friend.
She’s not holding me tenderly in her embrace.
She’s not filling my heart with her smile.

I don’t know what to do with this day that stretches before me.
There’s a list of things to do … but I hardly care.
I’m sure I’ll walk our dog Bailey … both he and I need it.
Otherwise, all bets are off.

Is this grief?
Not knowing how to be me without her?
Not believing she could really be gone?
Being unsettled by the ache in my heart?
Feeling broken into pieces?

Our future together
that once seemed so ripe with possibility
is now only a memory.
I am overcome with sadness.

Mark Lloyd Richardson

Look for the helpers

15 Monday Apr 2013

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in Prayers, Reflections

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Boston Marathon, Coleman Barks, first responders, Fred Rogers, grief, James Taylor, Patton Oswalt, peace, prayers for victims of violence, Rumi, terrorism, violence

27116_10151347053856954_40812581_nOur nation is saddened by the tragedy that took place at the finish line of the Boston Marathon today. It is a reminder that there is evil in the world and that innocent people often suffer because of it.

When my children were young and 9/11 occurred, I remember holding them close knowing that something changed that day. A sense of vulnerability to the whims of ideologically driven terrorism shook me. A feeling that this world in which I was raising my children had become even less safe saddened me.

As I write this post, among the three confirmed deaths is one 8-year-old boy. Well over a hundred people were injured. As I processed what happened today, I was helped by what some people posted on social media.

Singer James Taylor wrote, “Bostonians are rightly proud of our Marathon. It is a uniquely American event that opens its arms to the world. Any and all are welcome: men and women, able-bodied and disabled, young and old across the races and religions of the planet. That anyone could target this celebration of global family is impossible to conceive.”

A popular quote by well-known TV personality Fred Rogers circulated today: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

Performer Patton Oswalt wrote, “If it’s one person or a HUNDRED people (who caused this), that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out. … This is a giant planet and we’re lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in awhile, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they’re pointed towards darkness.

But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. …

So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, ‘The good outnumber you, and we always will.’”

Poet Jelaluddin Rumi, many centuries ago, wrote,

A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth.
A courageous man went and rescued the bear.

There are such helpers in the world,
who rush to save
anyone who cries out. Like Mercy itself,
they run toward the screaming.

And they can’t be bought off.
If you were to ask one of those, “Why did you come
so quickly?” He or she would say, “Because I heard
your helplessness.”
Mathnawi II, translated by Coleman Barks in Delicious Laughter

Finally, as a person of faith, the words my Bishop, Minerva Carcaño, posted today resonated with me: “This is an opportunity for all of us to be in holy conversation with our God, with each other, with our neighbors, and with our children about violence in the world. We live in a time in which we can raise our voices for peace and commit to being peacemakers in the world, the very peace of Christ Jesus. May Christ the Prince of Peace be with us.”

67914_353967048037125_529373743_n

Prayer for a Holy Christmas

22 Saturday Dec 2012

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in Prayers

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

blessing, Christ's birth, Christmas, grief, hope, human suffering, loving-kindness, peace with justice, prayer, presence of Christ, shalom

nighttime_paradise_blog

Prayer for a Holy Christmas

We come to this holy season with mixed emotions.
We want the hopefulness of the Christ event to wash over us.
We want to encounter the living presence of the one
who comes to live among us, full of grace and truth.
Yet we are troubled by the problems we see worldwide.
We see the people of Syria struggling to survive.
We see neighbors trying to rebuild their lives after severe storms.
We see communities indelibly harmed by needless gun violence.
We see hunger, poverty and disease affecting millions of people.

Still this season remains a season of hope.

It is a season to look outward to the places
where suffering needs to be alleviated,
where food needs to be delivered,
where homes need to be rebuilt,
where hope needs to be tangibly restored.

It is a season to look inward to the places
where hearts need to be softened,
where minds need to be stretched,
where plans need to be carried out,
where life needs to be given another chance.

It is a season to look upward to the God
who is sovereign over life and death,
whose heart grieves as long as any little ones suffer,
whose vision is for the well-being of shalom for all people,
whose will is that we learn the way of love.

Grant us a holy Christmas, O God.
Grant us a deepening understanding of the story of Christ’s birth.
Grant us a time to experience anew your living presence among us.

Bless all the dear children of the world with your loving care.
Renew in us the commitment to live as people of hope.
Strengthen our resolve to pursue peace with justice.
Give us trusting hearts, ready to welcome the Christ among us,
and ready to serve our neighbors
with the loving-kindness we learn from you. Amen.

Words (c) 2012 Mark Lloyd Richardson
Photo (c) 2012 Dallis Day Richardson

 

 

 

 

The Song of the Dove

15 Saturday Dec 2012

Posted by mark lloyd richardson in Peace with justice, Poems, Prayers

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

birth of Christ, Christmas, comfort, forgiveness, grief, hope, peace, prayer

white-dove

In this season when Christians await the coming of the Prince of Peace, and in light of another tragic shooting rampage in our country, this time ripping the lives of innocent young children from their families in Newtown, Connecticut, I share this prayer poem that I wrote six years ago. As we offer our prayers for God’s comfort for the grieving, I hope that we also offer our determination to collectively work as communities and as a nation toward preventing this kind of senseless violence in the future.

The dove is a symbol of peace – a peace we so desperately need in our lives, our communities, and our world! The dove is also a symbol of God’s promise that we are not alone; nor are we lacking the spiritual resources necessary to seek change in our hearts or in our world.

The Song of the Dove

In this season of crisp air,
billowy clouds,
and heightened senses,
I go in search of the place
where eternity lies peacefully in a manger.

I go in search of the place
where the humblest of God’s children
come with little more than adoration
to worship a newborn baby
whose name means “God saves.”
They come bearing unadorned gifts
of simple lives and trusting hearts,
and I see what is expected of me.

In this troubled world, this vengeful time,
with its endless supply of weapons,
its young all too ready to use them,
I hold stubbornly to life
with every ounce of hope within me,
and the prayer that forever forms in my soul
is a prayer for peace.

Forgive us, gentle Savior.
We, of all the earth’s people,
need to hear the song of the dove.

Words (c) 2006, Mark Lloyd Richardson

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