Solo Flight

 ~ Solo Flight ~

- becoming a singular solitary soul

In my recovery from death, the death of my beloved partner, soulmate, the other half of our duet, I've become a singular solitary soul.

I've always cherished solitude, even selfishly indulged in it from time to time, yet John's final gift in dying was wrapped in endless quiet time alone. Painful - as is any birthing to a new dimension - it soon embraced me with long hours to learn to know my new identity. 

No longer we, I suddenly was only me.  One voice. No longer the beautiful give and take of a happily coupled life.  In time I've morphed again from 'only me" to becoming more fully me. Still rooted in the life we had together, to branch out, blossom;  to hone my solo voice and sing with joy.

We died as couple, yet live on 

In thought and memory

Losing and gaining 

Living and dying 

Dying to live

Thanks be to Godde

JoMae

3/3/23

Sweet Moments

 ~ Sweet Moments Found In Poetry ~

There is a certain kind of magic

in the writing, in the reading

a certain kind of magic

tucked between the lines

A poem read from long ago and far away

can carry echoes of a fond rendezvous

of youth or hints of yearnings floating

just beneath the heart in wonder

Words to remind of love now lost

to gently revive the memory of

what it felt like to be another’s

special heart. Another’s One

JoMae

9/16/21

New Normal

~ New Normal ~

In the flood of grief, of loss

when your old identity has died

small gifts will eventually appear

floating on the wake of fear

each unsought gift

an invitation to a smile

to try new ways of doing

a new manner of being

a fresh new identity

for a newly minted you

JoMae

4/9/21

WE

Shadows, Trees and Clouds of Light

~ WE ~

I wish I were an artist

I would draw a tree

a tree strong and

vibrant and I’d

name it We

next I would sketch that tree

struck  asunder by a storm

split right down the middle

half, dead on the ground

the other half still standing

yet appearing to be dead

until, as seasons turned

starts to sprout instead

small branches now begin to form

blossoming anew -- while on the

ground all around the fallen half

life is nourished, flowers grow

We, now separated

continue each to serve

half reborn and blossoming

half lives in another realm

singing a new song

JoMae

1/1/22

Prompted/inspired by Joy's medium post: Deeply Rooted

https://medium.com/@lydalrydal7/deeply-rooted-958d4fee6e50

One

 A brief reflection on Loss

~ One ~ 

My love, you grew old along with me

those years will never be forgotten

our joys are printed in my heart

your hand print on my palm

We walked long winding paths together

some were in sorrow, most in gain

the pain of losing you is bitter

but the memories sustain

My holding of our love has changed

as you have changed, have died

tucked in a pocket of my soul

your echoes now reside

Til death they will abide there, with

wisdom, strength and memory

dwell unseen reminding me

loss can transform anew

to blossom on with joy!

JoMae

6/14/21 

When I wonder that I’ve scarcely wept after so great a loss, I must remember this - that I’ve had a love like none other whose echoes sustain me still and have become the soil in which I can blossom on.

Free To Be Me

Learning to grow Petunias

~  Free To Be Me ~

When life is joyfully interwoven

with lover, family, friends, we hardly

 notice morphing into one another while

living to please as much as possible

out of mutual love and respect

When suddenly we lose our love

must do life on our own, re-discover 

who we are; find our new identity, learn

if we can fit in what was once familiar

now upside down - forever changed

<><><><><><><><>

I never sought to be free, dear heart,

I loved the life we had — still cherish it

yet slowly, buried bits of me come back

the young girl, a new old me unedited

without love’s checks and balances

free to test the limits of my soul

free to be, free to be — me

JoMae

9/27/21

Grief -- A Metamorphosis

John & JoMae 8/29/59

 ~ Widowed ~

Grief is a huge transition
the loss of all familiar patterns
in one’s life — the universe has shifted
you feel oddly out of place without your love
for half of you is missing, one shoe has fallen off

Grief is also metamorphosis
a long slow patient process while
the butterfly is forming — while seeds of
life are sprouting preparing buds to flower
watch notice trust — new life will form in you

Trust the seed within a tragedy
buried in unexpected change that
devastates and lays you low -- please
know this, deep sparks will quietly emerge
first unseen, their glow will one day blossom in

New Life

JoMae
11/18/19

Braiding The Remnants

 ~ Braiding The Remnants ~

I am braiding the remnants of

our almost 60 years together

the lion’s share of our days

on earth - our sweet duet

Some memories fade as age takes hold

some, stay bright as that day first told

some, thin strings, weave in and out

barely an echo hovering beyond 

refusing to be conjured up

Each day I braid another row and

wrap them round and round to

tie the rug on which I dance

anchored by the echoes of

~ Our Song ~

JoMae

7/7/21

Chrysalis of Grief

When mourning becomes a time of transformation…

Watching Over Butterflies - Photo by Jessicakate Miles 
(I'm proud of Jackson, my great grandson, on launch day -JoMae)

~ A Chrysalis For Transformation ~

Some tend to feel abandoned in those early days of loss

after the rush of parting, the heart felt farewell gathering

filled with condolence, caring, memories - even laughter

A few weeks on, when hours remain empty

life too quiet without familiar conversation

too still, with even phones forgetting how to ring

When lives have all gone back to normal - all but

the bereaved (for whom normal has now died) who

are lost between what was and what one day will be

Days where all is unfamiliar, life is upside down

and it seems nothing in our world will ever be

right side up again. Days we drown in silence

Until a small spark of kindness penetrates the gloom

a smile, a card - we notice people care - and realize our

dark chrysalis, while foreign, was our needed healing place

Until Our Time to Fly

JoMae

6/9/21

My granddaughter and her children love to shelter larva found on milk weed leaves, then wait patiently as the chrysalis forms and a butterfly emerges to fly away.  

Watching Over Butterflies - Photo by Jessicakate Miles

Love's Echo

 ~ Love’s Echo ~

floating on a love now gone

as truly as white clouds above

gently drift through summer sky

wrapped in whispered echoes

of an ever changing world

hushed by a breath of

breeze bearing her

aloft, yet moving

along with new

strength and

purpose

New Joy

JoMae

5/13/21

Life Niches

~ Peacock ~  

Painting by NancySpoelhof.com

~ Life Niches ~

When the niche you fit in is no longer there

and no known niche fits you - anywhere

it may be time to hone new space…

carve a new corner for yourself

invite new friends to share

unearth old hobbies in

new ways you love

build fresh joy from some

small corner of before

and bloom!

JoMae

4//2/21 

For those limbo times in life when one must move from old to new; from before to after - yet find a way to thrive.  Enjoy!

Widowland

 ~ Widowland ~

a nightmare gradually transformed  into

a world full of  new beginnings  where

before remains flowing in your veins

as after slowly opens, takes you in

to bud anew, to blossom beauty

to gently create  new life joy

deeply rooted in the soil

of your lost love

JoMae

1/2/21

“a beautiful place called the land of beginning again.”  

 This last line of  SO WE BEGIN AGAIN, by Jeff Blake

written New Years Day 2017

became the prompt for

Widowland

Labor Day

~ John's Labor of Love ~

~ Labor Day ~

I wake to another Monday Morning.  One that should feel a little different because this is Labor Day. A holiday. We often did not make a big thing of holidays. Simply spent them together. We might not go any where or gather friends around, yet the day felt different.  That in itself colored the hours as we lingered over coffee or fixed a hamburger. 

When we spent holidays alone we liked it that way. I marvel over what a difference it makes when a couple is alone or when one is alone.  This day too, I’ll spend with myself.  And it’s ok. Almost 4 years now, I should be used to it.  

Thankfully, I keep busy with my pages.  Books. A lot of thinking. The pages I fill with words born of that thinking - and with my blog pages and other media waiting for the work I wish to share.  

It will be a day like any other.  Every once in a while I’ll look up and remember that this is Labor Day.  I’ll read articles considering this special day. I’ll wander to the kitchen for another cuppa and tell the sink full of dishes - hey, it’s Labor Day after all.  Maybe later. Then return to my favorite chair and the page I’m working on.

At first, coming to grips with being on my own, I saw this as a new chapter. So different than the one before. So unexpected, foreign and disorienting. A chapter difficult to find my way into; difficult to write.  Gradually I realized, these years are not just a new chapter.  This is a whole new book.

I’m trying to make it a good book. One that shows how in every loss lies buried gifts - to be opened when the time is right. Small seeds to nurture into blossoms.   New responsibilities to grow into. A book reminding us that every ending is a new beginning - and to trust, to savor it’s unfolding. For I’ve learned already that when/if another loss occurs, I will be ok. I might be scared, but will be ok.  

If mine were a real book, I’d name it 

~ Hope ~

JoMae

9/7/20

Left Behind

Waiting Gifts

~Left Behind~

I’d  hoped not to be the partner left behind

left without you, without the me I knew

left alone to start anew or die within

I did not know that grief could hit

rock bottom then rise again to

surface in a present rich with

deeper understanding, new 

eyes, fresh beginnings

New Life - New Me

Dear Heart - I wonder, had I died first and 

you’d been left behind to find the gift of

new beginnings, what would you have

wrought with it? The very thought a

challenge to do my utmost with

this gift I have been handed

this rich new opportunity

to think, discover and

To Live

JoMae

1/26/19

Year three, and I am learning to see this new phase of my life, this new chapter, as a gift, an opportunity I’d never have known had I died first.  A present to carefully open and enter with quiet anticipation. A faint echo of the day when death takes me home to the new life joyfully awaiting there.