#SeasonalSonnets 2017: 9th December

Hello my lovely readers

A late post tonight because I've just got back from the party of a primary school friend. That feels apt, though, as it's also the anniversary of another primary school friend - my dear Gemma Watson, who passed away sixteen years ago today.

Having mentioned in yesterday's post that my mental health hasn't been that stable, this #SeasonalSonnets entry gives you one of the reasons why. It's sadder, I suppose, than the others have been so far. Yet as much as it acknowledges the intensity of my emotions, I also want to say that there are many smiles - not least because, at Colin's party tonight, I was able to be carried in so that my chair could be lifted up the steps. That isn't something I'd have fathomed possible almost literally since primary school, so it feels fitting, and I like to think Gemma was with me.

Sadness can definitely coexist with joy - and Christmas can be painted on a bridge in summer, which is what she did in the picture below.

Love and spoons

Jx

9th December 2017

I’ve read that grief is love turned inside out –

if so, I guess my heart must be chock full.

Why do I sense, then, that I’ve lost my clout,

my arms and eyes are heavy; my head dull?

I want to mark your memory with smiles,

since you deserve them far more than my tears,

I’ve travelled solo, though, so many miles;

each day has seemed as long as sixteen years.

Surely this sense of numbness should have passed

and let me add your tunes to my own song,

but each new grief intensifies the last –

and fifteen others have now joined your throng.

I still hope, glibly, that soon time will heal

tho’ it does naught to stem the ache I feel.