The questions never stop
Can I teach again?
Should I try it?
Am I just giving up?
The best days are the worst
The doubts eat me alive
Two years I’ve pretended
Waiting to get busted
Who gets to call themselves a writer?
Not me.
And yet, the shift has happened
The genes have shifted
What once needed to teach
Is striving to teach through words
Now
I believe
I have a story to tell
Worth telling
Worth.
A year ago this week, my mother lost her husband. They had been married less than five years but they made the absolute most of every minute they had together. Theirs was a great love story.
Joe was a special person. Sometimes people say that to be nice after someone dies, but he was truly an incredible human being. Some people exude a particular kind of warmth and caring, which makes us lesser humans crave being in their presence. That was Joe.
As shocking and tragic as his death was, only three weeks after his 80th birthday, where a huge community of family and friends came out to honour him, I learned an important lesson from my mother about love and grief. In the midst of her heartbreak at losing the love of her life, she already had it in perspective.
Rather than wallowing in her grief and their short time together, as I imagine I might, she focussed on the fact that they’d had any time at all. Five years of a great love provides countless wonderful memories, and is more than many are lucky enough to experience. It’s better to have loved and lost, right?
RIP Joe. I feel so fortunate to have known you. We all miss you so much. I love you Mom! Hug your loved ones and don’t wait to say the important things. Life is precious and fleeting.
Have a wonderful week!
❤️ Amanda
Walk a Myelin* My Shoes 