My heart is like a puzzle with many pieces to put together. It's been torn apart so many times, and the puzzle pieces are so worn out i'm not sure that they can be put back together. For years, i have laid down my writing, my talents, the creative part of my heart that I couldn't share. Hence the name, buriedtalent. It's time I picked up my pen again or in this case begin to type on the keyboard. Funny how I used to write for hours with a pen or pencil in notebook after notebook and never find that tiring. Now my hand gets cramped up if I have to use an old fashioned thing such as a pen or pencil. I bought this new computer and have this special place, my office now so I can write in peace. All I hear is the gurgle and whine of the fish tank behind me. This has been a hard road for me this year with so much heart-ache and death to deal with. Death had once been something that had kept it's distance from me, something I only heard of from other people and their personal tragedies but it had not gotten too close to me until 3 friends died and now my sister, another age old family friend and most recently my grandmother. My sister has been the biggest shock to my heart. How can a healthy 31 year old woman with so much to live for die so suddenly??? She has left many of us with holes in our hearts, reeling from the impact of our own loss. Her children now left to fend for themselves, with no mother's heart and advice to guide them through life's trials. Her husband is lost to sorrow and pain. Her mother and father with nothing left to hold and care for, their lives unwinding, and nothing left but guilt and questions and loss. Loss is an evil thing and leaves a great gaping cavern of a hole in human hearts. I don't know if the chasm from here to where I used to be can be crossed. Any innocence that I had is now lost because now I know the pain of death. It is like when Adam and Eve were in the garden; God knew what the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil would do to them, he knew they'd now know the pain and loss that comes with death. I have eaten that fruit, albeit, unwittingly. I walked into that hospital room and I knew that my life would be forever changed. There she was lying on the bed, hospital gown draped around her, and a great tube and machine making her heart and lungs pump, a swishing, whooshing sound. All was quiet and still. I looked up to the ceiling hoping her spirit was hovering there but alas I felt nothing. I knew at that moment that she'd passed beyond my reach. She'd moved on to the afterworld. I was confused that she hadn't stayed behind to watch us at least, to see us grieve her passing but she was gone and no matter how many hours we called her name, and cried for her to come back, 3 gruelling long days of it, she had left us and was gone. My mother pleaded with her to please come back to us. I prayed and annointed and kissed her feet. Many of us joined hands and pleaded with God and the gods to bring her back. Her youth was stolen away, her blessed giving spirit was ripped away from us, her children, her loving husband, her parents and friends. When the doctor told us she was most likely brain dead, though I expected the worst, my heart was broken, and the wailing and mourning began. It was heartrenching to hear her husband cry out, "NO< She was all I've known, I can't live without her!!!!" I couldn't listen any longer and I fled. I ran to my own grief and sorrow. I stopped eating. I felt no desire to fill my body with food when all I had in me was sorrow and despair. \If she couldn't eat anymore and food was so important to her, how could I eat? I wretched and wretched over and over on an empty stomach and nothing came out but my body wretched anyway. I cried and screamed and writhed in pain. I wept and I shook with anguish but nothing was bringing her back. Now though it's been 7 months, I am still numb. I am still in disbelief that this could happen to one so beautiful. But I'm sure my words are nothing new to anyone who has experienced the heartbreak of death. If it has come close and walked through your door, than you know what I mean. My heart is a puzzle, will anyone or I be able to put it back together after so great a tragedy, will any of us who've been touched by the sickness and pain of death? Maybe some pieces will go back, but some will never fit in place again. My heart will never be the same. My life, once on a safe path has veered off into something unexpected and strange. How will I know which turns to take? I've reached a fork in the road and I must choose which one to take... I've decided I must write about my experience or I fear that I will go insane with all the hurt and pain inside my head and soul.
