September 19, 2014 · 9:47 PM
I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms.
Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic, and quite a charm.
Your silhouette dancing in my dreams before my eyes –
Remembering your joy with my simple lullabies.
I imagine your eyes, your voice, your laughter,
Spending time together, nothing else mattered.
Thinking about you often before crawling in bed at night,
I loved you so much, never wanting you out of my sight.
I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind today?
What are the things you’re longing to say?
Would you have married a wonderful husband?
Live in a castle and have many children?
Oh, if only, if only, I could see you now,
I would run to you, hold you and twirl you around!
Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart,
But I guess I knew that from the start.
If I still had you now to talk, share secrets, laugh and cry
I would not be here now thinking: Why did you have to die?
© M.A. Pérez 2014, All Rights Reserved
In memory of my sister whose birthday is around the corner. She would have been ten years older than my first born! I had to say goodbye to her when I was nine, a month after she turned two years old. I remember so much pain and suffering back then, looking back, I believe God spared her from something worse. I look forward to the Blessed Hope that one day we will embrace one another again. She will not come to me but I will go to her. And we will NEVER have to be apart.
To read more about my sister from last year’s post, click here . . .
April 3, 2013 · 2:52 PM
“I always did love you, just had too many problems.”
Ten words on ink and paper.
Written by her.
Pierces my heart.
Does she know I exist? Or care? Or want me?
I love her, look up to her; want to be her.
Isn’t love also a verb?
Grandparents notice. Embrace me. Love me.
They say I am worthy and special.
I am not allow to stay with them.
She said I might become spoil.
I leave home. Searching for Mr. Right.
Embraced him at sixteen. Happily ever after.
Young. Naïve. Taken for granted.
Thinks to mold me into his image.
His way or the highway.
Motherhood. Baby having babies.
Crawl before walk. Stumble. Fall.
Clinging unto a strand, unraveling.
Years overlap. Encumbering.
Emotions are numb.
Hubby seeks greener pastures.
Two-timer. Tosses me to the wolves.
Water is not missed until the well is dry.
Alone. They’ve aged. Reaching out.
Across the miles, they call my name.
Vowing eternal devotion.
Grown children look back.
Open arms. Nostalgic.
Rebuild the fences.
Dying to live.
In times of happiness, embrace your beloved.
In times of calamity, hold them closer.
Love isn’t love until you give it away.
God grants life.
And second chances.
Me, at three months old with my mom
Filed under Life, poetry, relationship, Social, Time
Tagged as depression, forgiveness, Forsaken, love lost, Mother, naive, nostalgic, Poetry, Relationships, time