... I have been to see Faye in her little confined cemetery space surrounded by what was a painful sight ... and the weight coming down on me of what every day's reality is about ... dozens of freshly dug up graves ... muddy ... stepped on ... with bunches of flowers spread around ... flowers whose petals had either fallen or dried ... crushed like most probably many of the dreams some of those now cadavers had had in their lifetime ...
Who were they? How old were they ? What did they do or accomplish while they were alive? Who did they leave behind?...
... and yet, does any of it matter?It probably doesn't ... nothing can be done to bring them back, except make them alive through our fondling memories ...
... I cried out as I never had before ... nor even when she was "gone" ...
... The whole atmosphere made me once equate what life is about ... and how unfair some situations seem to be ...
I just wished it had been me ... she had a lot more to give than I ... she was much stronger than I'll ever be ...
... She was never given the chance to bear children of her own ... as I did ...
... her life commitments were cut short without any warning ... not that it would have made much difference had we anticipated what was going to happen ...
... I cried out as I never had before ... nor even when she was "gone" ...
... The whole atmosphere made me once equate what life is about ... and how unfair some situations seem to be ...
I just wished it had been me ... she had a lot more to give than I ... she was much stronger than I'll ever be ...
... She was never given the chance to bear children of her own ... as I did ...
... her life commitments were cut short without any warning ... not that it would have made much difference had we anticipated what was going to happen ...
I haven't yet been able to accept this loss ... and forgive the Lord up above (may he forgive my devious thoughts) for what fell upon me ... but mostly for what fell upon her ...
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