BY KATHY B. GARDNER
The night she died was a supermoon
the largest full moon of the year
And since then,
that same moon has emptied
on schedule, from left to right
four whole times
It’s a part of nature I feel like I can still count on
Although that night sky is a distortion–-
some stars have already burned out,
their light is just late in reaching us
from so far away
It’s still comforting, though,
a reminder that I have no true sense
of time and space in my earthly form
I bought a picture of the exact night sky
as seen from Sandy Hook, Connecticut
the night her soul left my body
Sometimes I find myself
just sitting on the kitchen floor
staring up at it
I smile sadly, point to it, and say,
“I used to live there.”
This post was originally published on ltop.blog, and is republished here with the author’s permission.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom
Sip a little more:
Howl For Me, Wolf-Woman: The Dark Feminine And The Maiden’s Loss
Discover The Love & Freedom From The Pain Only You Are Meant To Feel
The She Book
. . .
As a father, celebrating the 32nd anniversary, last week, of personally delivering my son into this existence, I tried to imagine your grief. I tried to imagine my lifeless child emerging onto my joyfully expectant hands and heart…
You have the deepest empathy I can possibly muster. I CANNOT know your grief. But I can know the love you lost that night.
As a moon gazer, a full moon delights me to know end. It also disrupts my sleep. And now, being grateful to you, I shall be able to REALLY see the dark side of the moon.:.
May your grief nurture your heart in ways only God can know. Thank you Kathy. You exemplar Courage of the highest order. And I am honored to be a witness.
My sincerest empathy
Hi Gregory,
Thank you for your kind words and being willing to even imagine the pain of stillbirth. For most people it is too much. The most supportive thing anyone does for someone deep in grief is to be a witness to it — to acknowledge it and sit with that person while they grieve. Thank you for doing that with me. All the best,
Kathy