"The Silence is Deafening"
To Mom. I'll miss you forever.
She was strong, though she thought herself weak. She was beautiful, though she thought herself ugly. She was surrounded by friends and admirers, though she often felt alone. She was loved and respected.
She was a single mom on welfare who only wanted a better life for her kids. She was an active member of her community, a ready helper to anyone who needed it, a smiling face ready for a chat.
Though she suffered from depression, she presented the world with a cheerful attitude. She was always eager to lend an ear or a shoulder, or give a big hug. She encouraged her kids without being pushy, even when they were determined to be a drama major. And she loved to talk.
Happiness was a cup of tea and a good long chat with a friend. But if she couldn't have that, she'd chat anywhere, with anyone, often for hours. Not in a gossipy fashion - more often she was bragging about her kids latest adventures. There was nothing mean-spirited about her - she truely cared for the people around her.
Life was not easy, money was not free-flowing, and a battle with compulsions and depression raged within her mind. But she was a survivor, and being a mom meant the world to her. Her kids were her pride and joy and she did everything she could for them.
She loved Christmas, music and laughter. She loved life, even though it wasn't terribly kind. And though she often embarrased her kids by starting conversations with complete strangers, right now, they'd do anything to be standing awkwardly by her side while she told the check-out girl all about his new wife, her play, his adventures in foreign lands. They'd do anything to hear her prattle on about the inventory at work, and how many t-shirts sold today. They'd do anything to hear her voice again because now it's gone.
And the silence is deafening.
She was strong, though she thought herself weak. She was beautiful, though she thought herself ugly. She was surrounded by friends and admirers, though she often felt alone. She was loved and respected.
She was a single mom on welfare who only wanted a better life for her kids. She was an active member of her community, a ready helper to anyone who needed it, a smiling face ready for a chat.
Though she suffered from depression, she presented the world with a cheerful attitude. She was always eager to lend an ear or a shoulder, or give a big hug. She encouraged her kids without being pushy, even when they were determined to be a drama major. And she loved to talk.
Happiness was a cup of tea and a good long chat with a friend. But if she couldn't have that, she'd chat anywhere, with anyone, often for hours. Not in a gossipy fashion - more often she was bragging about her kids latest adventures. There was nothing mean-spirited about her - she truely cared for the people around her.
Life was not easy, money was not free-flowing, and a battle with compulsions and depression raged within her mind. But she was a survivor, and being a mom meant the world to her. Her kids were her pride and joy and she did everything she could for them.
She loved Christmas, music and laughter. She loved life, even though it wasn't terribly kind. And though she often embarrased her kids by starting conversations with complete strangers, right now, they'd do anything to be standing awkwardly by her side while she told the check-out girl all about his new wife, her play, his adventures in foreign lands. They'd do anything to hear her prattle on about the inventory at work, and how many t-shirts sold today. They'd do anything to hear her voice again because now it's gone.
And the silence is deafening.
posted by Deirdre at 10:27 a.m.
1 Comments:
The line, "the silence is deafening" is from the poem Fin wrote and had read by the reverand as a eulogy at the funeral.
Post a Comment
<< Home