My Mom is a Survivor


P1100704This poem may have been written by my precious Vic….

She used to worry so about me surviving her death.  Our domestic helper has worked for me for the past 18 years.  Bettie is part of the family.  Over the years we have shared tears for our children…

Bettie went on her annual leave on the 18th of December 2012.  She tells me that Vic asked her to keep an eye on me, after her passing, as she would not see Bettie again…

Vic knew she was dying.  I knew she was dying.  I prayed for her to die!  Why is it so hard now.  I want to scream my anger and pain…I want to lash out at someone and just punch them…

Bettie returned just in time for Vic’s memorial service.

My Mom is a Survivor
My mom is a survivor,
or so I’ve heard it said.
But I can hear her crying
when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night.
and go to hold her hand.
She doesn’t know I’m with her
to help her understand.
But like the sands upon a beach
that never wash away…
I watch over my surviving mom
who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others,
a smile of disguise.
But through Heaven’s open door,
I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with my death,
to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her
knows it’s her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom
through Heaven’s open door…
I try to tell her that
Angel protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn’t help her,
or ease the burdens she bears.
So if you get a chance, call to her
And show her that you care.
For no matter what she feels,
my surviving mom has a broken heart
that time won’t ever heal.
~K. D’Ormeaux

14 thoughts on “My Mom is a Survivor

  1. Beautiful. Love the line:

    So if you get a chance, call to her
    And show her that you care.
    For no matter what she feels,
    my surviving mom has a broken heart
    that time won’t ever heal.

    Like

  2. PLEASE HELP MY MOM TO HEAL

    I wish I could rewrite the last line for this poem.

    I believe healing is possible with a broken heart. It happened for me and does not represent less attachment. It is all about love.

    Healing happens when there is a wound. If you don’t heal, you die. Grief is an amputation, when a soul is amputated, a piece inside is missing – it can’t be seen. The experience of having lifeblood pouring out from the soul is horrific and not able to be put into words. The bleeding eventually subsides and healing begins – grief is a journey into a new existence.

    Time allows for anesthesia, but I don’t believe it heals by itself. Many people die inside. Maintaining hope is helpful toward healing.

    I believe it is LOVE for our child assists in healing. Our child wants us to live without torture. We want to honor our child’s memory and give meaning to their life. Love for our child can leave an imprint on this earth.

    Here’s how I would love to hear this poem:

    So if you get a chance, call to her
    And show her that you care
    Her anguish is so real
    My surviving mom has a broken heart
    Please help my mom to heal

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  3. I did scream and wail. The anger inside is just to much. I was angry for a good six months. I didn’t believe he was dead. That someone had killed him. I believe that right up until I read the autospy report. Then I had to let go of the anger. Then I went on the trips of guilty for a long time, the what if’s will kill you.

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      1. it does get a little easier. But those what if WILL drive you crazy. You are just being your journey and it is a very long journey. And raising grandchildren on top of your grief.

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