I call myself a warrior not because I am incredibly brave, but because I still exist. That doesn’t mean that a wishing well of sorrow doesn’t persist. One so deep that the sound of the stone dropped therein never leaves a sound. Bottomless, these waves of heartbreak come unexpectedly and without warning. They wash over me like a salty ocean wave that pushes me out into deep water. Some days, I am drowning, but I struggle to keep my head up.
Overwhelmed by lamentation, not for pity’s sake for I know the immense blessings which gratefully although undeservingly lay upon my heart and soul. The instant in which they arrive is without my control. Embracing tear soaked cheeks and blurred vision due to prolong weeping. I stop and think. At least I had parents and sisters that I loved.
We all have unwanted, and even undeserved demons, that dwell within our internal core. The choice my parents made to leave this world before I was thirty by their own hands was an unwelcomed nightmare. A scourge that alcohol became in their twisted lives, which lead wretchedly to this end.
I am haunted at times by memories that could have been. My beautiful and thoughtful child that never knew the kindness and grace that my mother indisputably felt for her. My father’s last wish, to be able to see her again. Oh how I wish I would have taken her now, but unbeknownst to me, it was because his plans to take his life, were already made.
So, I embrace the delightful and precious and remember her kindness daily. For this unfathomable, and deep crevice can be slowly put aside with love, forgiveness, and God’s Holy blessings.
by JK Caggiano 7/13