I live with the inlaws
And just got the news
I have to move by septemberish
Abiding in one of the richest areas per ca-pita in the US
But widows aren’t rich
Not my class anyway
The ones wed to dead junkies
With the kids on state care who need psychiatrists
and therapy twice a week paid out of pocket
The ones who have worn the same shoes for seven years
and spend half their life choking back tears
we came here because we’d nowhere to stay
and the time has come
to again go away
but where to this time?
I have moved over twenty times in my forty years
I am tired and want to lay my books upon the last shelf
hang up the last mirror
a home for myself
but no money I have
no carriage either
no work
I’m ill
I fear whats before me
I loathe whats behind
and the great cost of it all
a once happy girls mind
a once happy girls mine
Are you still in there… smiling one?
Hopeful one?
Faithful one who knows all is well?
Are you… you… you… you… you…?
Mothering a Cutter 
3 responses to “Widowhood”
Yes, your beautiful girl (and she is beautiful) is still in there. With the right therapy and all the love and support that she is so fortunate to get from you, she will come out again.
I am sorry about this move. It would be really easy (and almost justified) to feel hopeless at this point…but you don’t seem like the type to me. In the bleakest situations, you seem to gather strength from the very insides that bore your children. When others would crumble, you seem to find a thread to hold yourself up…simply because your children need you.
I hope good, fruitful empolyment comes your way. I hope it brings a good, permanent, peaceful home for you and your kids. You so much deserve this.
Please know that you and your family will be in my heart and prayers.
Peace,
RisingSong
Thank you for your kind words but the girl I was speaking of was me. I am afraid she is gone forever. The hope. The light. The fight. I simply cannot take much more.
I am sorry this time is so difficult…beyond difficult…beyond humanly bearable. I wish I could carry you and give you rest – just enough to bring the hope and the light and the fight back. Instead I prayed and shed my tears for you, as I sang Amazing Grace.
Please don’t give up. Is there someone who can carry you? Just for a day?