Purpose in the Pain

This is for so many people, including me ...
Susie, Billy, Donald, Daun, Kim and Kathleen,
Susan, Amie, Pattie, Mandy, Stacy, Little Danny,
Cheryl, Tonya, Kristen, all of my brothers,
and so many more.
It does not matter if your loss had two legs or four,
infant, sibling, spouse, or parent ...
that ache is indescribable.
I'm hoping I've captured some good here.
Please let me know what you think.


Purpose in the Pain
by Lyn Marinello

In the midst of the ache, scarred by the loss,
it has to have some meaning, not some trivial dross.
Scabbed by betrayal of years absconded.
Could I have changed things with how I responded?
Recovery's a pipe dream. Time heals naught.
Tangled in emotions; inexorably caught.
Can anyone explain our faulty expiration dates?
How are we supposed to handle these random earthly fates?
Will the chasms left behind ever again be traversed?
Or the emptiness within ever adequately be conversed?
Will the tears upon my pillow drown me in my sleep,
as they slowly fill the void of the space you used to keep?
The chatter we used to share is a deafening silence now.
I'm paralyzed by the vacancy. I'm trying to move, but how?
I'm just a hollow shell of all the things we shared.
I cannot find the reason why you're gone and I am spared.
I know that in my anguish I've met many a kindred spirit.
They may not erase the hurt, but have managed well to cheer it.
I've listened while they wailed, to tales both grand and unassuming.
How the aid of helping others denied my grief ~ its all-consuming.
That while owning every tear and embracing each emotion;
I have quelled the constant pang and stilled my inner chaos and commotion.
While allowing other's sorrows a place to freely flow,
we're commiserating heartaches I wish no one had to know.
They have yelled and cried and laughed. I've held them seemingly together.
The connections that we've lost create a co-dependent tether.
In the holding of their hands they, in turn, have held my own,
and together, in isolation, we've learned that we are not alone.
We can relate and recognize. We can understand without any speech.
We learn from one another, but we're also here to teach.
We've been shaken to our core; been led to others also crushed.
Been given strength to see them through and both miseries are hushed.
The precious gifts we've lost, forge a bond with those we've gained.
Mourning is communal. There is purpose in the pain