Monday, March 7, 2011


As you know, a close and dear friend of mine recently died. And even though I have had losses in the past, this is my first “up close and personal” experience with grief. It is not what I expected. When I have observed others with their grief, I have seen their heartbreak and sorrow, but it was hard for me to imagine that unrelenting sadness going on for weeks and months and years and I felt somewhat removed from what I saw. My experience with sorrow tended to be brief and pragmatic, a byproduct of my emotionally repressive upbringing no doubt. "We all die eventually; it's a part of life." I couldn’t quite imagine how every reminder, every anniversary and birthday, every milestone could trigger the flood of emotion again and again and I have always felt guilty for not understanding.

So now I am facing the rest of my life without Mark. And my grief is not a constant, unrelenting sorrow like I thought I saw in others. It is very episodic. I can be perfectly calm one minute, crying the next, and fine again several minutes later. The depth of peace I can feel is a sharp contrast to the welling up tears that some thoughts bring. It is not milestones and dates that trigger my sadness, just the idea of never seeing him again. I miss him with a power that surprises me. Yet the grief is born of love and reminds me of the bond we shared and how much we both valued our friendship. Every tear I shed is in honor of him and a tribute to the fine person he was. So in many ways I am grateful for this time of grief. I hope this experience helps me to become a more compassionate person and opens new avenues in my life to explore. Most of all, I hope he will be waiting for me when I pass and it is this idea that comforts me when the fear of death and its apparent finality threatens.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

For Mark


I want to know
Where in the great beyond you are
Hiding in deep shadows
Or afloat on a breeze
I want to hear your whisper
Down my spine
And feel the echo of your heartbeat
Beneath my sighs
Reach for me
Across invisible plains
And touch the secret part of my heart
Where the memory of you lies buried

Close call

Apparently I have been typing incorrectly for the past 20 or so years. Someone held a secret vote while I was at lunch one day and decided that it is not necessary to space twice after periods as we were all taught in high school typing class. I am outraged that I was not notified earlier. Fortunately, the Serendipity of Discovery Act of 1847 stipulates that any error discovered by the maker before said maker is brought to task is nullified. So my record is once again a clean slate and all is well. Whew!

Skitty has arrived


Welcome to Skitty's Dittys! I will attempt to post my musings, poems and meanderings on a semi-regular basis. Sit back and enjoy the show!