I’ve always been nervous around needles. In college, I joined a group of my fellow students to donate blood. The nurse pricked my finger and I stumbled like a drunk into the other room where another nurse intercepted me, steering me to safety. “We won’t be taking blood from you today,” she said wryly. In University, while enrolled in the Dental Hygiene program and after being immunized, I was told I stood up and abruptly fainted, smacking my head on some nearby equipment on my way down. I woke up lying in a bed, unsure as to where I was, and, most unfortunately, pantsless. I was informed that, once on the floor, my bladder let go. Poor, prone, pony-tailed Polly lying in a puddle of pee in front of her peers! To this day, I use the restroom before any sort of procedure involving a needle. I couldn’t even watch my daughter get her ears pierced in the mall at Claire’s without sitting down next to the table and putting my head between my knees. Continue reading “Hangin’ in the Comfort Zone”
Category: Grief
Later, Dad! A Reflection on the Death of my Father
Note from the Author: I’ve received permission from my family to share the story of my father’s passing. Some of you may have read parts of this on Facebook. I believe it’s so important that we share our stories with each other to draw comfort, inspiration, and wisdom from them and to help us better navigate life.
I always knew it was coming, I just didn’t know when. Death, that is. It’s rudely brushed past me before, but it’s easy to distance yourself when it’s someone else’s loved one. When it’s your loved one, when someone from your inner circle exits, death is no longer a curiosity and an occasion to show empathy, but a piercing of the heart. I had no idea that I would be consumed by it, that my dad’s face would take up residence in my mind, and that his departure would so ravage my thinking that keeping track of anything would become a considerable challenge. Continue reading “Later, Dad! A Reflection on the Death of my Father”
Burn Away the Dross
Sometimes I wish I could pack up my feelings
Especially the ugly, hurtful ones
That scour my soul and leave me winded, raw, and wounded
I’d thrust them into the deepest trunk
And grunt and sweat to force their bulk
Into a forgotten place
I’d bury them under every meaningless piece of trash
I can’t bring myself to get rid of
Sometimes I wish I could pinpoint those moments
The person, the voice, the scent that lingers
The triggers that slap my face and send me reeling
Pummeling me with those awful feelings
Those ugly, hurtful, persistent feelings
That scour my soul and leave me winded, raw, and wounded
I’d stay run away, move away, stay away if I had to
Sometimes I wish I could close up my being
And throw up a wall around my heart
To block the triggers, those stupid signals
That bring up the pain of those ugly, hurtful, persistent feelings
That scour my soul and leave me winded, raw, and wounded
But I simply cannot do it
Cannot lay down in the bitter cold
Cannot close up and get hard and old inside
So I writhe
In the flames
Alive and open
Complete the experience. Listen to for King & Country’s It’s not Over Yet.
Posts come out every Monday morning, a poem every third Monday. Scroll down to the bottom of the page to receive notifications of my posts via email. Follow me on Instagram username: pollyeloquent. Thanks for reading. 🙂
A Birthday Grief
So far the days have strayed since when we were together
Oh, how the hours have flown since I last held your hand
I long to hear your voice and trace your face and hold you nearer
And wish to never lose you again
Now time is marking days we spent in celebration
But in your absence, I am at a loss for joy
The day that you first graced this place, now a reminder
That you will tarry elsewhere evermore
Oh, God, who watched his closest friends desert, betray him
Oh, God, who died alone in agony
Oh, God, I clasp your promises in weakness and hang my head in heart-sick misery
I plead, though feebly, with the psalmist
Come satisfy as only you can do
I stumble onward, tearful, faithful, and in earnest
And trust that you will see me through
Author’s Note: This poem was written for a friend who lost his spouse.
Complete the experience. Listen to Danny Gokey’s Tell your Heart to Beat Again.
Posts come out every Monday morning, a poem every third Monday. Scroll down to the bottom of the page to receive notifications of my posts via email. Follow me on Instagram username: pollyeloquent. Thanks for reading. 🙂
Coming and Going
A piece of my heart has wandered far from me.
I’ve had a number of firsts recently. I’ve never been on an all girl road trip. I’ve never traveled so many miles without a parent or my husband at the steering wheel. I’ve never had a child move out of my home. Until now.
Continue reading “Coming and Going”