Dealing with Grief, Poetry, The highly sensitive person

Perhaps, maybe…

Today I’m a little tearful

Not sure what’s going on inside

 But I showed up

I meditated

Halfway through the tears started

When in popped my mum

I didn’t hold them back

I just let them come

Because for all of her flaws

For all of her own pain

I know my mum adored me

All of the same

And I miss her sometimes

I miss her so much

I miss her embraces

 I miss her smell and her touch

I miss her phoning at the most

Inopportune times

I miss her constant worrying

I miss the random messages

Of puppies and pets

The sweet little news stories

I miss the comfort of knowing

She’d always message me back

 I miss stopping in at her house

For a hug and a snack

And the hundreds of emojis

At the end of every text

 Lots of hearts and kisses

And all those X O X

I miss having that person

Who just stands behind you

Who continues to love you

In all that you do

I miss her connecting

Always keeping tabs

And I even miss how we sometimes

Made each other so mad

So, I went for a walk

Somehow walking by the canals

Helps calm to infuse

Being close to water

I always feel less alone

Today as I walked

A little further than usual

I was confronted with a sight

A teeny bit dismal

A half sunken, canal boat

Covered with rot and mould

I was conscious of my emotions

As they started to take hold

 I suddenly felt overwhelmed

 I started to cry

I was left curious wondering

Why on earth, why?

Why would something like that

Trigger me so much

Was it sadness

Anger

Or just plain disgust

On inspection I found

It was all of the above

Like where were its owners

Why didn’t they care

How could they leave that poor thing

Rotting over there

She needed to be valued

Shown some respect

Not just abandoned

A tragic corpse wreck

And what about the neighbours

Was there any thought for them

Leaving this boat rotting

So heartbreakingly condemned

And had anyone bothered

To pick up the phone to complain

How do you wake up every morning

Looking at this eye strain

And as the assumptions and judgements

Flittered around my head

I decided to pick up the phone

And do something instead

I reported it and I was

So very kindly reassured

They’re aware, but it’s timely

The legal procedures

Then I chatted with the sweet lady

At the Canal River Trust

We laughed together about

Our mutual annoyance and disgust

And it prompted me to return

To my garden and scribe

A poem about all of these random

Bubbling feelings inside

It got me quietly wondering

What it could perhaps be

The deeper reason this boat

 Had such an effect on me

Did it trigger my own fears

Of abandonment

What if I never get a handle

On this illusive ‘self-containment’

What if one day I get overwhelmed

Too much water comes in

What if I find myself drowning

Slowly sinking

Would anyone care

Would anyone reach out

Sometimes this feels like

A truly valid doubt

But I know this is universal

This fear we all conceal

Will time be our friend

What will it reveal

How will I die

Will I be alone

Will I be surrounded by loved ones

 Or completely on my own

Which then brought me full circle

Back to my mum’s death

For those last 3 months

All I wanted was to be there

Holding her hand

I didn’t want her to be alone

It was why I was so adamant

I wanted to keep her home

Because if I could be with her

Then maybe, perhaps

I could exert some control over

Exactly that

That dreaded thing we call death

But if I was there

If I was present

Then I could mitigate her fall

And that day of her death

When her death rattle began

I sat reading to her quietly

Holding her hand

And she kept looking at me

With this confusing stare

I’m not sure what she was thinking

Or what was going on in there

I kept trying to encourage her

To close her eyes

When I finally left the room

To put some noodles on

In those few briefest of minutes

She was suddenly gone

I will admit at first

I felt so angry and hurt

Why’d her soul choose that precise moment

To pack up and desert

When I had been there for 3 months

Waiting patiently

Personally, I blame

Those useless movies about death

With loved ones huddled around

As the last words are said

 To this day I’ll admit

Death scenes irk me right through

Because so many of them

Are so fucking untrue

But as time has passed

I’ve been able to reassess

Other plausible possibilities

That might also make sense

Like perhaps, maybe

My mum loved me so completely

That by sitting there next to her

I made it impossible for her to leave

Maybe she was hanging on

With all of her strength

And perhaps me going to the kitchen

Was simply her Godsend

Or perhaps, maybe

She wasn’t actually ever alone

Could she have been surrounded by loved one’s

Waiting to take her home

My dad, her parents

Her much-beloved brother

Or maybe her cherished

And long passed grandmother

So perhaps truthfully

She didn’t need me holding her hand

Maybe she had enough faith in me

That I’d understand

Or perhaps, just maybe

The poignant lesson for me

Was learning to let go of the control

And just letting things be

Because even when you’re forewarned

That  death is on its way

There is absolutely nothing you can plan

Or prepare for that day

Except learn to be grateful

For every single moment, you get

Have compassion for yourself

Learn to forgive your regrets