A Father's Anguish
An Empty room containing things
Each with its own memory
To touch is to cry
Stay close
And I wear his jacket
No smirks, no jokes, no chores
No heated discussions
No Father and Son
Stay close
And I wear his jacket
Someday tomorrow will come
Stay close
And I wear his jacket
And I Wear His Jacket
An Empty room, cannot bear to touch
His stuff, the tears of 'means so much'
Smash the clock I cannot turn back
That badge, that model
And I wear his jacket
Each item part of nineteen years with
Each its own memory - now pain
No snickers, no meals, no chores
No heated discussions
No parts of Father and Son
And I wear his Jacket
Someday, tomorrow will come
And I wear his Jacket
C2000 L. Skip Johnson, Jay's Dad
Closure is a Simple Lie
Don't look for what is not there
For what can never come.
It is a word told to you by those,
Those who cannot walk in your shoes,
Those who have never known the sorrow.
You don't get over it.
You don't heal.
You don't move on.
There is forever a huge hole in you,
The edges may not be as razor sharp.
There will be some scarring.
It will be a wound that will easily open.
No, closure is a fraud,
foisted by well-meaning,
though seriously mistaken
ones who travel not
your unwanted journey.
C2002 L. Skip Johnson (Still Jay's Dad)
It is still too soon, a little over two years since Jason's death, for me to see life without the veil of grief. I trust my friends do understand. To anyone else, I don't care how you feel. Besides, knowing folks of many other nationalities, Americans are the worst when it comes to grieving. Clueless.
There Comes A Day
One morning you awaken ...
The dreams not as frequent, the visits do cease - they are seperate phenomena.
One could suppose that, or conjecture, or opine, or firmly believe, that a spirit sees you are now capable of continuing without their help.
You have come to grips with the hole, the gaping hole, that you have had to build a life, or some semblence of a life, around. You will hear it said that you get through the pain, live around the pain, still run from the pain, come to grips with the pain. Any glimpse of what some doctor or other trained professional will call healing is truly proper appearing, socially acceptable scarification.
It is true that the tears finally reduce their falling. They may be replaced with a silent weeping, a fundamental sadness of the cold hard reality that the remainder of your life here is without that loved one.
It is thought by some that, when your time does come, your soul is transported to where you believe. That said, hold on to your beliefs and that reward will come. As strong as is your love so is your highway home.
Accept you do not call the tune or the time ...
That is up to ...
May the Lord Bless you and keep you.
And I wear his jacket.
C2005 L. Skip Johnson, Jay's Dad
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