Why Am I Still Here?


Why Am I Still Here?

 
The older I get the harder it becomes
To find meaning and purpose
In a life that has changed beyond all recognition
With a body that challenges me
Frustrates me
Pisses me off
To the point where
Death can at times
Seem the easier option
 
Even my hissy fits
Are insipid caricatures
Of once powerful searing surges
And yet I persist
Like masturbating with a vibrator
Full of dead batteries
I know I’m not going to get there
But I go through the motions
 
I live with loss
These losses are immeasurably sad
And now there’s the incremental loss of
Mobility
The slow erosion of
Independence 
These things bring sensations
Known to Damocles
 
Why am I still here?
 
A question I often ask the silent book lined room
Where I spend  the majority of my days
Because going out is difficult
By the time I’ve showered
Had a rest
Dressed
Had a rest
Packed the walker and oxygen into the car
Had a rest
The day is half done
And weariness is already
Seeping into my bones
Each hour out
Requires a days recovery
I’m not an unhappy person
It’s just
Life has wearied me
 
I struggle to find meaning that is viable 
Given my limitations
I see no purpose in a life
Spent sitting in a chair
Unless
From that chair
I can reach out
And in the reaching
Connect and contribute
 
All I have to offer are my words
The tales and times of my life
 
Tricia 6/2012
 

About triciabertram

I have written all my life. Writing helps me to make sense of a world I often don’t understand. Poetry is my supreme solace, closely followed by literature and music. When my son ended his life in 1999 I embarked on the most difficult journey of my life, my grief journey. To survive in this unknown, harsh landscape I had to write. It was for me, the only way I could even begin to move forward. Then in 2009 my darling husband died suddenly and so my journey continues. I write about other issues but because of my life experience, grief and death are continuing themes in my writing life. In our culture I believe there is a fear of death, an inability to accept the inevitability of our mortality, and this creates enormous difficulties for the bereaved and those around them. I have begun this blog in the hope I will create a small ripple in the pond of fear that is currently drowning the reality of death and grief. I will continue to skim the stones of my truth, watch them bounce, and see how many ripples I can make.

Posted on July 25, 2012, in Poems and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. Don’t diss words. Your words are powerful and have a strong effect on all of us out here.

    • Joe in this poem my intention was not to “diss” my words. For me those last two lines are the crux of what keeps me going. What I’m saying is that I may not be able to give or do much, but I still have my words to share. I’m laying in out there in with all the honesty I can muster in the hope of connecting with others.

      A week ago I shared this poem on an Australian newspaper blog. The topic was the Higgs experiments and the meaning of life in a thiest versus atheist style debate. In response one blogger shared his experience of his father’s death just a few days previously, another shared her struggle with the impending death of someone she loved, another wrote of a friend’s mother-in-law who had recently died and said he was going to send a copy of the poem to his friend. He believed it would comfort her because it spoke of how her mother-in-law had been feeling in the lead up to her death. Also many who were debating opponents of the man whose father had just died wrote comments offering sympathy and wishing him well. This man and I have opposing views in most debates but he thanked me sincerely for sharing the poem.

      In the middle of an often heated debate there was, for some bloggers, a momentary truce where humanity overrode their differences. I’m pleased and proud that my words were the catalyst for such a small, but special moment in time.

      Maybe Joe if you read the poem again, in light of the above you might see it differently.

      Thank you for caring about and valuing my words,
      Little hug from the land downunder
      Tricia

      • I see what your getting at now. I think I may have gotten carried away with the general flow of the piece. Sorry about that. It is an excellent poem. The very best of luck and health to you my friend and I look forward to hearing more from you.
        Regards from Dublin
        Joe

  2. My heart hurts with you, Tricia. Your very strong words tell a tale that others I know experience similarly to you, and yet can’t adequately express. You have a perspective on the riptides of physical weakness and the tsunami of grief that is rarely openly expressed. Keep expressing yourself whenever you are able. I suspect it takes a lot out of you. oxo Debra

    • Hello Debra,
      It’s lovely to hear from you as always. I’m battling another bloody infection at present but my writing, although it’s only sporadic at present, is the thing that keeps me going.

      Thank you for your understanding and encouraging words
      Hugs
      Tricia

  3. Tricia,

    I’m just visiting a few favourite logs and I am so glad I discovered this post.

    Before I say anything else and lest I should forget to say it, you certainly do reach out, connect and contribute in a big way.

    I can relate so much to almost everything you say here and I would love to expand on these few words but typing too much isn’t good for me at the moment. Suffice to say it is wonderful to connect with you, to empathise and send lots of healing love and (((hugs)))

    Keep on keeping on – you are worth it! 🙂

    Love

    Christine

    xx

    • Me dear Christine,
      It was so good to read your sincere, validating words. I value your feedback and am doubly grateful because I know a little of how difficult typing is for you at present.

      I’ve been in hospital for the last couple of weeks and hope to be going home in just a few more days. I love that my iPad allows me to stay in touch with the world when my body is misbehaving.

      When I woke up this morning I realised I was actually breathing rather than rattling, so that’s a really good sign. I hope your health improves soon. I miss your wise and wonderful words on the blogosphere.

      Take care my friend
      I send you healing love too.
      Hugs
      Tricia

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: