Walking Forward Together

I love this….
For the mother who has lost a child...

There’s an order that life is supposed to follow.

An order of breaths we are supposed to take,
as if we are passing a torch from one generation to the next.

And our torch is supposed to go out before our child’s flame is extinguished.

We are supposed to watch them take their first breath. But not their last.
We are supposed to hear the thud-thud of their heart when it starts beating. But never the silence when it stops.

That heart that we once carried inside of us. That breath that we gave them. That life that we kept safe, protected.

So when the order of life is disrupted,
when their torch goes out before yours,
it is as if you too have been robbed of your breath
and as if your heart has stopped beating as well.

There is nothing that can make it less painful.
You would blow out your flame if it meant theirs could burn.
But you can’t. Even though that’s how it should be.

So all you can do is carry them inside you -
like you did once before. Except now they have to stay in your heart forever.
And though it hurts, know that they are safe there.
They are protected.

Because a mother’s love is unending.
Because it burns forever with every breath you take and with every beat your heart makes.

Because a mother’s love is a flame
that can
never
be extinguished.

*****

I’m sharing it in the lead up to Mothers’ Day for many, but I know that it doesn’t only apply to mothers. Sending love to anyone this resonates with.

Becky Hemsley 2023

Love this for this Mothers Day

Hope everyone has a gentle day with family and friends and giving yourself the grace that you deserve… 🌸🌸🌸

Some days, the heart feels like it’s carrying too many stories at once…

A little bit of yesterday’s pain,
a little bit of today’s confusion,
and a quiet hope for tomorrow—
all sitting in the same small space.

It’s strange how you can be trying to heal,
while still holding onto pieces that hurt.

Trying to let go,
but also not wanting to lose what once meant everything.

Trying to forgive,
even when the memory still whispers at night.

Trying to forget,
but somehow remembering in the smallest moments—
in a song, a place, a silence.

And in the middle of all that…
still trying to love,
still hoping to be loved gently,
without fear,
without doubt.

That’s a lot for one heart to carry…

But maybe healing was never meant to be neat.

Maybe it’s okay that your heart feels crowded,
that it doesn’t know whether to cry or smile,
to hold on or let go.

Because even in all this confusion,
you are still here.

Still trying.
Still feeling.
Still choosing softness in a world that made you hard.

And that… quietly, softly…
is a kind of strength most people don’t even see.

there are some kinds of grief that don’t have a clear shape

no casseroles at the door
no long lines of people checking in

just quiet & a heart that feels heavier than it ever has before

losing a baby changes you in ways people can’t always see

it’s in the dates you remember that no one else knows mattered
the “what ifs” that play in your mind at the most random times.
the way you can smile & still feel a deep ache underneath it all

people say time heals but this kind of loss doesn’t just disappear

you learn to carry it
you learn to breathe around it
you learn how to keep going while holding something that will always be missing

& even though the world kept turning, mine paused for a moment that felt like forever

“But it made you strong!”

How often we are tempted to say this to someone when they’ve been through a difficult time.

And it may well be the case.
But chances are that they are feeling anything but strong. They are likely feeling
exhausted
shattered
weak.

And they need someone who recognises that. Someone who - for just a while - can be the strong one for them. Can offer them a shoulder to cry on and an arm to support them.

Yes, when they feel like that, they need to rest.
They need to recharge, recoup and regain the strength they’re being told they have inside of them.

Because what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.
But it sometimes very nearly kills us -
exhausts us
shatters us
weakens us.

They didn’t want to have to be strong.
They wanted life to be kinder.

And as it wasn’t, it might help them more than we realise

If we bring the kindness instead.

******

Becky Hemsley 2023

This poem is from ‘Letter from Life’: https://amzn.to/3ZKS1v1

If I could have just one more day with you…

I would hardly speak. I would simply listen to your voice and commit every tone of it to memory until it became my favourite melody.

I would look at you. I would study your eyes and your mouth, and I would learn every angle, every pane of your face until I could see you perfectly with my eyes closed.

I would hold your hand in mine. I would trace all the lines on your palm until they became a trail – a map - that I could retrace on my own palm every time I felt lost.

I would soak you up and breathe you in until there was not a single thing that I could not recall at a moment’s notice.

But more than anything, if I had one more day with you,
I would hold you.
I would hold you so tight, hoping that maybe if I didn’t let you go…
You wouldn’t.

Yes, if I had just one more day with you, I would hope… I would hope so hard…

that you wouldn’t have to leave again.

*****
Becky Hemsley 2023
Artwork by the immensely talented Jungsuk Lee

‘One More Day’ is from the book When I Am Gone: https://amzn.eu/d/auT2OZ2