MuguRe

A pitcher of lemonade, ice cubes clinking, an absolutely hot day. That works well, doesn't it? You raise the glass to your lips, tip your head back and drink deep! Hmmmm.......bliss! Maybe that's the picture you should hold in your mind when life throws you more lemons than you can handle. Or so you think. Probably that's what whoever coined that phrase was thinking. Then again you could get the bottle of tequila out with some salt and take some shots, preferably with a pal who can hold your hand to cross the road for it's okay to experience the lemons at a personal level. Whichever way you wanna handle the lemons that come your way, it's imperative that you handle them. Because lemons will come. And some of us get sacks of them at a time, while others seems to get a few every other year and others still, seem more blessed and get none. I believe lemons either thrown at you or your friends are opportunities for growth. Unfortunately, when they come our way, we bem...

That it catches up with you, in the middle of a laugh, a smile, quiet, easy moments And the pain is sharp, doubles you up into a foetal position You catch your breathe, try to smile Push the overwhelming emotions back Get up and get on with life But it binds you to your favorite seat or corner of your bed Or on the floor of the shower, masking the gut tearing sobs The sense of loss, helplessness, anger and frustration You are now crying , asking the usual questions, Why, Oh God, why? You want to understand this loss, make sense of the pain It will probably make it easier, you know, to let go But that's just the thing with grief The more you try to make sense of it, understand it, The more it seems to hurt, because you can't really make sense of it You need to accept the pain by cherishing the memories, good and bad Kinda appreciate them, in a sense of gratitude Until grief losses it's power over you That's the thing with grief! .

Tonight my soul arose In a beat that stroked In the quiet of the night. Captured my spirit, Swaying in rhythm Seeping into ma skin, Vibrating through ma flesh To rattle ma bones To reach the marrow within Until all of me was fluid

It's cold and rainy With striking lights across the sky And sounds that growl Long into the night Long streaky tears on my window Yet the thrumming sound nudges Into uneasy wakefulness I reach out for comfort And grasp air And a cold, impersonal pillow And the thrumming accelerates With confusion and uncertainy Were you really here Or did I just dream it? ReneéJ

Earlier this month, 9th July to be precise I shared this note on Facebook. Time really does march on. The sun rises and sets each day effortlessly it seems, yet joy and pain require more effort to work with. Each is a little better than the last though. For that, I am grateful. It's exactly a year later; almost to the hour when I got the news that my big brother, Chanjo was no more. I remember how the calming words of the Psalmist floated and I wrote down, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me" and little did I know that at that moment my brother took his last breath. I still miss him, his funny stories, his easy way of taking life in his stride, no matter what he brought his way, his endless love for his boys and dedication to each one of his siblings. Today was made difficult because of memories and realization that you cannot turn back the hands of time. When time has ...