Tag Archives: loneliness

MESSAGE RECEIVED

I haven’t seen or spoken to him since the day of her funeral.

We sat at the table with him and he made us laugh, with his stories and orneriness, just being himself. He was a pillar of strength, though the pain was clear in his eyes, he forced smiles for her sake and I found out that day, after forty-four years, he thinks that I am a pretty girl; and silly as it is, I felt about five years old.

I never was very close to him growing up, but over the last several years we’ve become more so. He amazes me with his wealth of knowledge and common sense, from a lifetime of living, lessons learned, mistakes made; and speaking his mind, shooting it straight, because that’s just who he is, when the wall comes down and he speaks his truth.

His knowledge of the world stems from a lifetime of reading and watching nothing but public television, for they never had cable television, or even a VCR. But pick a topic and he can talk it better than most.

I received a card from him today, a simple holiday greeting, inside at the bottom written in bold, underlined three times was one single word…LOVE and I sat alone, in my corner and cried.

For not only have I been selfishly wrapped in my own world, driving myself crazy inside my own mind, but I didn’t even think to send him a card, or bother to call and wish him Merry Christmas, and ask him how he was; his first one without her in nearly seventy years.

He’s lonely; horribly, terribly miserable and alone. Just as I am, but for very different reasons; but he remembered me and he made the effort, when the only person I’ve thought of for months now, is myself.

This was my wake-up call, my reality check if you will; that elements in my world have got to change, or another year, I simply will not survive.

Thank you, Grandpa, for giving me so much more than a holiday card and underlined three times, your love in bold…

©2011 Jill Terry

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TIS THE SEASON

White gossamer wings
Reflecting the north-flowing waters
Rapidly flying south

Grey clouds lowly hover
Looking as if to blanket the trees
Reflecting the heaviness
She feels in her heart

The sadness
That floods
Her soul

While others plan their festivities
To mark a time of giving thanks
All she can do is wander lost
Under a sunless sky

Watch the waves
Lap cold and lazily
Upon this desolate beach

Longing for that
Which is out of her grasp
Lingering taste
Of what she cannot have

Misery loves company
But she finds this untrue
As she sits alone
Along the rocky shore
Realizing there is no light
Left to guide her

Thinking perhaps there never was
Is possible was only a fleeting dream
And tragic darkness is her reality

How long she can withstand
Remains to be seen
Though she feels her self
Winding slowly down

And she’s neither the will
Nor the strength
To pull herself
From the depthless well

For even if she found a rope
And the fight within to climb
She would find no one waiting
Or holding the other end

Not of flesh nor of blood
But in spirit perhaps
That blows from her sight
With the first gentle wind

And what good is a rope
Tied to a tree
If not to end
Ones misery

© 2011 Jill Terry


LEFT BEHIND

She sat in the corner, listening to the deafening sound of silence, the room cold and dark, but for the faint amber glow of the accent lamp that illuminated the edge of her desk. She looked at the untouched plate of food and her stomach recoiled at the sight. She needed to get rid of it, the smell that she hadn’t noticed until it visually invaded her space, suddenly making her nauseous; but she was too numb to even think, much less get up and take it to the kitchen. She managed enough motion to touch the edge of the plate with her fingertip, and slowly push it away, until it tipped then disappeared over the side of the desk into the waiting wastebasket below.

She didn’t understand how she could feel so much pain, when it was emptiness that filled her now; how it could be that she found herself living for a dream that at moments such as this seemed absolutely hopeless; on her knees, futilely begging him to see, that he’s everything she ever wanted and all that she needs. Wondering if it was as easy as it seemed, for him to walk away and leave her there; lost and alone, spiraling out of control in a grief-stricken meltdown of epic proportion; her fragile strength slipping away completely when he told her, quite simply, No.

There was no stopping the flow of tears or gut-wrenching sobs, as images flashed from an internal reel, and the one she kept coming to over and over, was the sweet sadness that filled his eyes; sadness that revealed the depth of his own anguish and pain, over what had transpired and become their situation.

She saw herself reach out and gently touch his face, telling him she loved him, kissing his sweet lips, feeling for the first time that she alone, was enough; and she wished in that moment she could have left this plane of agonizing existence, wrapped in the warmth of his sheltering embrace, having closed her eyes and simply drowned in his love.

©2011 Jill Terry


Wrapped in loneliness

She vaguely remembers him kissing her goodbye, as she lay sleeping in that big empty bed; though she wasn’t alone, not completely; for in her subconscious she was doing much dreaming. Then she woke and it all came crashing down; her reality, her misery, her fear and her longing. Images, words and thoughts, colliding into one, spiraling uncontrollably the halls of her mind; she reached a trembling hand, but again she found no one.

She emerged into the world, but only for a moment; for the light and presence of others unknown, pained her mind, blinded her eyes; and so wearily she carried herself to that place they call home, unlocking the door, assaulted once more by the onslaught of loneliness.

Was one of those days when she longed to lay fetal; unmoving, unthinking, unfeeling…just numb; but soon he returned with a broad happy smile, smelling of the road and telling her tales. Of the day he had, the friends with whom he met, the food, the laughter, the drink they had shared.

She smiled and nodded, heart shattering in silence; as she held back the tears that burned her throat and eyes; wondering how much longer she could live this life of lies. He kissed her on the cheek, asked what she was writing; “just some drivel, nothing you’d find interesting.”

He shrugged in acceptance, then turned and left the room; his brief presence trailing him, as if he’d never been there. She searched her bag, felt and extracted the bottle; shook out two pills, the ones taken for pain, hoping sooner than later, the trick they would do.

©2010 by Jill Terry


Idle hours

Night falls
And the door of
Loneliness
Opens once more

Wandering thoughts
Leading deeper
Endless hours
Pass by idle

Tears born of
Frustration
Wanting so much
To believe

While truths falsities
Ebb and flow
Raging as the sea

To shed tears of happiness
Heart swollen with joy
From the gift of truth
Another should bestow

But what illusions spring
From a bounty of words
While reading the pages
Of one’s very soul

A beacon in the darkness
Wrapping round the heart
Come to life on a virtual page

Where freedom is found
Chained spirits do soar
And the abyss calls you
By name

© jillterry


Depthless

A night out with the girls, after a tumultuous week at the office; heads turning as they were led to their table; the waiter taking a quick inventory of Blackberry’s, designer bags and bling; calculating his tip even before introducing himself. Once seated and situated, they immediately began bitching about co-workers and letting off steam, then somewhere between appetizers and the second round of margaritas things took an awkward turn.

Shana was the drama queen of the group; pampered, posh and completely plastic. There wasn’t a single person in the office that wasn’t aware of the fact that she didn’t have to work, she chose to; for walking around money. Whenever there was reason for an occasion, she made it a point to play hostess, then downplayed the maid and gourmet chef who not only worked the soiree, but were full time employees.

They had three children, with a live-in nanny who raised them rather than tended them. Ponte Vedra Beach is where they resided; in a sprawling 8,000 square foot oceanfront mansion with their own private stretch of beach; a showplace to be certain, just as Shana was a show piece to her husband.

Sure, she thrived on the attention her looks afforded her, but in truth she loathed the amount of time she was made to spend on her appearance. Yes, “made to.”

Her husband was the most sought after plastic surgeon in northeast Florida and had invested tens of thousands of dollars of his time and talent, on breast implants, tummy tuck and lipo after their last child was born and they were certain they wanted no more.

He hired a personal trainer, which came five mornings a week, to make certain she worked out, because quite frankly, he didn’t trust her to do it on her own; and the chef was to prepare all her meals and keep track of what she ate on a daily basis, so that at the end of the week he could assess her caloric intake and adjust her workout accordingly.

He put her on a routine Botox schedule, which just so happened to coincide with her Mercedes maintenance. Three thousand mile oil change, tire rotation and Botox injections, all in the same day, which she swore was just a coincidence.

As she drained the last of her third margarita, she confessed that he’d recently hinted that for her 43rd birthday he might be giving her a facelift, then burst into tears; professing how miserable she was, and that at the end of the day, all the money, clothes, jewelry, memberships and trips abroad did nothing to ease her loneliness.

Then in the very next breath she turned to me and asked if I knew how many calories were in a margarita. I told her I didn’t know and what difference did it make. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Are you kidding me? It makes ALL the difference! I don’t have the luxury you do, of having a husband who loves me unconditionally. Richard is surrounded by young, beautiful women every single day and the last thing in the world I want, is to be forty-three and single, with three kids and forced to take care of myself!”

“CHECK PLEASE…”

© jillterry


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