Friday, September 25, 2009

Broken String of Pearls


As the early morning sun burst through the closed window blinds, I groggily ease out of bed, my bare feet landing on the cool oak floor. Squinting from the intrusive sun, I sit a moment on the edge of the bed and run a hand through my honey-wheat hair, trying to smooth down the loose strands.

I feel tired.

Last night was like so many other nights since dad died in June, two days before Father's Day. Just another night of disconnected, haunting dreams that leave me feeling restless and uneasy. Like little snippets from a Stephen King novel bouncing in and out of my head. 


Silly girl. Cried yourself to sleep again. Not really sobbing, just soft teardrops falling on my pillow like a broken string of pearls. 

I slowly rise and scuffle to the bathroom, splash some cool water on my face, dab it dry with the nearest wash cloth (a blue one, how appropriate) and think to myself, will it ever end? will the dreams ever stop? will I ever sleep through an entire night again?

Oh, what I would give for one dreamless night. Just close my eyes and have nothing seep into my mind but restful, blissful blankness. Wake up to a new dawn, a new day. Smile at the sun and remember the good times with my dad and the wonderful fragment of a faultless man that he was.

Open up a new book, start a new chapter.




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13 comments:

Anonymous said...

I lost my mom, my best friend..about a yr and a half ago. I had months on the sofa..never leaving the house..at times I felt I would never be normal again...but then it happened, one day I found myself outside, just sitting with my dog....I have discovered it is little things that help me to take a step forward...allow yourself to feel what u r feeling, grief has to run its coarse...then on days u can, take a small step...a walk, sit outside..look through a photo album, whatever it is allow yourself to do it, and feel the emotions. Just this week I allowed myself to watch dancing with the stars (my mom and I watched it together every mon night for all the seasons it was on) it was the first time since her death..she died during the middle of the 8th season I could not watch at all last yr, and now I am..I cried durring the first night, but allowed myself to feel it, and was able to remember the good times.

I guess I rambled on about all that to say...yes, time will come when u will sleep, and have good memories, it is a process my friend, just embrace it.

sumofnofears said...

Awww, how sad. I have been there and words from others dont always have the answers. I believe as individuals we all find a way to overcome all of lifes heartaches. May I offer a suggestion? Perhaps start by going to sleep remembering the good times with your dad? That way perhaps you might wake up with the good thought that put you to sleep.

You write well. This blog wasnt fun to read but it was written well.

Good luck to you.

Nevine Sultan said...

I can relate to this completely. Honestly, I can't live without my dreams; they keep me sane. But sometimes the volume of material comes to overflow, and I need a break from all the images, sounds, and most importantly, the feelings I wake up with, and have to live with all day. Your post was introspective and honest... and very heartfelt!

Betty Manousos said...

I can understand the pain you have in your heart. And how you feel. I lost my dad ,and I'll never get over that. But I got used to live with that and everyday I speak to him. I'm sure he knows it.
Also, I'd like to thank you so much for your kind comments .
Have a wonderful weekend! :-)

4evernite said...

Steven, your words as always, comfort me. It didn't seem like rambling at all to me, just one friend talking with another :-) Thank you for taking the time.

Sum, I thank you for your suggestion. I will definitely try that tonight.

Nevine, you said it well. It's the feelings we wake up with and have to live with all day. Thank you for your kind words.

Betty, sorry for your loss. Thank you so much for your kinds words.

Lisa said...

You could always go to the doctor for some sleeping pills. Those things do wonders. Slept right through mouth surgery. But, now it hurts.

4evernite said...

2busy, you slept through mouth surgery? Now that's what I'm talking about. lol. Sorry it hurts now though. Thanks for stopping by. :-)

Ojibwe Confessions said...

Loss of life is a hard thing to come to terms with. Everyone is different and go through different stages and feelings. I use to talk to my Mom when I was laying in bed missing her. Lot of hurt there. I miss her but feel good about the relationship we had. It must be difficult for those that had unfinished business with their loved one.

4evernite said...

Steve, thank you for stopping by. I was fortunate enough to have the time with dad that I did in the last days of his life. He told me he knew I loved him. That meant so much to me.

Breadwinner Wife said...

You are such a good writer, I can feel your emotions through this post. I lost my older sister several years ago and I was so upset when I would wake up after dreaming about her. Eventually it became less painful, dreams less frequent, happy memories more prominent than sadness.

Stacey J. Warner said...

You have expressed loss with insight. I could feel it. Time heals all...and let no one tell you went its time to be done, relish the sadness and then one day you will wake up happy, having slept through the night.

much love

4evernite said...

BW, thank you for the comment on my writing. I'm sorry for the loss of your sister. Glad to know your pain is less now. That's encouraging.

Stacey, thank you. Your words of kindness are much appreciated. Much love to you as well.

Deborah said...

What a clarifying look into grief...I am so sorry for your loss. Starting a new chapter is a wonderful way to look at it. I lost my father last November 3, and as the one year mark approaches, I'm filled with an odd mix of emotions. I adore him, and miss him desperately. You really seem to have a grip on things, and seem to be heading in the right direction...a postive direction.
Much Love,
Deborah