"With Each Breath" |
I sought help through various healing
therapies. Prayer helped, as did family, friends, work, and walking, when all I
could do was put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. After a
while, a friend suggested I enroll in some courses at a nearby university. It
seemed like a good idea, so I started out, slowly, taking a few classes in
personal awareness, communication and creative writing. As I began to write, the
words and feelings I’d kept inside came pouring out in the form of poetry and
verse. I knew that life would never be the same and it would take a long time,
if ever, to heal and recover from the intense sadness and pain. Writing gave me
a way to express, and work through, the wide range of thoughts and emotions.
With Each Breath
is a poetic, visual journal of my search for peace and sanity in the face of
upheaval and despair. My path has not been easy, but along the way, I found some
answers and learned to accept [my] life, with all its beauty, tragedy and flaws.
I still struggle sometimes. Birthdays, anniversaries and holidays can be
difficult. No matter the depth of my spiritual beliefs and faith, a void exists
that cannot be filled on this earthly plane. I would give anything to have seen
my son grow up, become a young man, and find love and fulfillment. We missed so
many of life’s pleasures. Today, I might be spoiling a grandchild or two of my
own, but it wasn’t meant to be. Through the many twists and turns, I’ve been
blessed to find love, again, and create a life I can enjoy. I’m grateful for
my blessings, and so very thankful for the time I was given with Jassen and
Marc.
Sharing our stories and experiences brings us together, lifting us out of ourselves and allowing a bond of greater empathy, compassion and respect. All of our days are numbered and precious. They pass quickly even when we are lucky enough to live long, healthy and fruitful lives. Each hour, each day, we have the chance to acknowledge and cherish one another as the miracles we are.”
Brooks
Garten Hauschild
|
One
Day
I
hear a child calling ‘Mama,
Mama’. I
turn to answer and see a
blur of golden hair rosy
dimpled cheeks a
flash of baby teeth Spirit
running free.
Every
little boy could
be you reminds
me of you sounds
like you runs
in wild spurts like you is
beautiful like you. But,
no other little boy will
ever be you know
the same things as you see
life the way you do love
[me] like you do.
I
hear a child calling ‘Mama,
Mama’. I
turn to answer and know one
day there you’ll be running
wildly toward me laughter
bouncing off your cheeks hardly
able to breathe tripping,
falling, over your feet. And,
there I’ll be Spirit
running free tears
spilling down my cheeks hardly
able to breathe tripping,
falling, at your feet. . . catching
you holding
you holding
you holding
you! Brooks
Garten Hauschild
|
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