no more time for anything but memories

Essay by: jenjodi

Summary

a short essay on the death of my daughter

Content

Submitted: November 21, 2012

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Content

Submitted: November 21, 2012

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It’s been nearly five months now and yet as the distance in time increase the pain does not decrease. It is still a raw pulsating sore that throb with a thousand needles into my soul. The thoughts are the worst – they are racing through my head at terminal velocity, unstoppable, unbearable. It is a never ending cacophony of why and if and maybe and if only and why and o my god it hurt so much and when and where and why and on and on and on.

 

My days and my nights are not only filled but actually troubled by your presence. As a person who loved you more than life itself, as a father who only wish the best for you and as you friend who tried to share you life all I want is to grant you the peace that you so desperately craved.

 

All I want is for you to rest without the pain and the demons that was ruling and ruining your life.

 

Unfortunately I cannot grant myself the same absolution, the same peace. I cannot rest for I worry constantly if you are okay; you are so small, is someone looking after you, do they love you like we did, who listens to your never ending stories, who buy your music for you- are you cold or hot. All illogical and stupid questions I am sure for everybody says that you are in a better place but you are still my little girl.

 

The girl that I so proudly carried home from the hospital, the girl that I used to take to work when the nanny was sick, the little girl that I took to grade 0 on her first day, the girl that I took home to my family when only 5 months old, the girl that more than anybody else on this earth was my little girl 

 

 

There were so many things left to do - so many places I was going to take you, so many things I wanted to teach you, so many experiences left to share and cherished

 

Now suddenly there is no more time for anything but memories.

 

The sand in you hour glass have run out and the places and experiences left to share are stopped

 

They are no more.

 

And in the minutes upon hours upon days I can only sit back in the terrible nothingness which is the absence of you…

Your eyes upon looking at a softer alien shore

 

It’s been nearly five months now and yet as the distance in time increase the pain does not decrease. It is still a raw pulsating sore that throb with a thousand needles into my soul. The thoughts are the worst – they are racing through my head at terminal velocity, unstoppable, unbearable. It is a never ending cacophony of why and if and maybe and if only and why and o my god it hurt so much and when and where and why and on and on and on.

 

My days and my nights are not only filled but actually troubled by your presence. As a person who loved you more than life itself, as a father who only wish the best for you and as you friend who tried to share you life all I want is to grant you the peace that you so desperately craved.

 

All I want is for you to rest without the pain and the demons that was ruling and ruining your life.

 

Unfortunately I cannot grant myself the same absolution, the same peace. I cannot rest for I worry constantly if you are okay; you are so small, is someone looking after you, do they love you like we did, who listens to your never ending stories, who buy your music for you- are you cold or hot. All illogical and stupid questions I am sure for everybody says that you are in a better place but you are still my little girl.

 

The girl that I so proudly carried home from the hospital, the girl that I used to take to work when the nanny was sick, the little girl that I took to grade 0 on her first day, the girl that I took home to my family when only 5 months old, the girl that more than anybody else on this earth was my little girl 

 

 

There were so many things left to do - so many places I was going to take you, so many things I wanted to teach you, so many experiences left to share and cherished

 

No suddenly there is no more time for anything but memories.

 

The sand in you hour glass have run out and the places and experiences left to share are stopped

 

They are no more.

 

And in the minutes upon hours upon days I can only sit back in the terrible nothingness which is the absence of you…


© Copyright 2016 jenjodi. All rights reserved.

no more time for anything but memories no more time for anything but memories

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

a short essay on the death of my daughter

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