Don’t Waste Any More Time

It was a Monday

Laid up at home

Left kidney screaming

Flopping around like a fish

Anxious, turned on Oprah

Topic of ‘dying’ with

Dr. Pausch’s last lecture

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo

Pondering

Thinking

Crying

What would you do different

If you knew you were going to die in 3-6 months?

What would you change and why?

Why wait?

Don’t wait

Don’t waste any more time

Your life is calling

Are you listening?

Listen

You are

You do

You can

You will

Don’t waste any more time

For What It’s Worth…

For what it’s worth:

It’s never too late or,

in my case, too early to be

whoever you want to be.

There’s no limit,

stop whenever you want.

You can change or stay the same,

There are no rules

To this thing. We can make

the best or the worst of it.

I hope you make the best of it.

And I hope you

see things that startle you.

I hope you feel things

You never felt before.

I hope you meet people with

A different point of view.

I hope you live a life

You’re proud of. If you

find that you’re not, I hope

you have the courage

To start all over again.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

 

 

 

Distracted

Busy lives keep us 

Distracted

Never having to deal

With it, or them, or life

We grind so hard and so long

That it’s easy 

To flop into bed

Exhausted

Causing our own exhaustion

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning

Organize, organize, organize

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go. 

Can’t stop

Must keep moving

Must keep going

Otherwise we’ll have to deal 

With the missing 

Missing friends

Missing family

Missing memories

Missing time

Missing dreams

Eaten up with 

Must stay busy

Must be busy

Stay “fine”, “I’m good”

The quiet overwhelms

The brain that just wants

Reprieve

From all the planning

All the busy

All the tired

But isn’t it sad

Incredibly sad 

That in all the busy

We’re missing 

Our children’s giggles

Dogs at our feet wanting attention

The hawk perched in the tree

Staring & hoping that you’ll

Catch a higher vision

For yourself

For your family

For your friends

Is it worth it?

Your inability to slow down?

And enjoy 

Who you are

What you are

Whose you are

Right now?

You can’t out run it

Your pain

But one day

When you’re ready

You will heal

And the busy 

Will melt

Into a life that is 

More

More centered 

More balanced 

More peaceful

In the meantime busy lives keep us 

Distracted

Never having to deal

With it, or them, or life

Craving Everything

I’ll keep stepping

Because that is what I do

Disappointment vibrates

Through me

Lack of authenticity

Sorely lacking

Thoughts in head 

Disappear 

Like a vapor

Dust

It was never real

It was never going to be enough

The mantra repeats- 

Enough is never good enough

Toe-to-toe I fold

Like the Edvard Munich painting

Screaming 

Bummed at the loss

Of nothing

But 

Craving everything

Now There Are Five

Now There Are Five

One departed on a Sunday

Scott on a Monday

He always did have Monday-itis

“Peace out suckers” I can hear him say…

Football season filled with Sunday games

Sweats and slippers, fire glowing in the fireplace

Scott made Sunday football huge

He had some pipes and rage!

His blue eyes always twinkling

Stubborn as a mule

He cared for me, my tough brother

Captain Crunch cereal in the middle of the night

In Jericho when his blood sugar dipped too low

We ate dry cereal in fistfuls

Four wheeling, whoop-de-doos, high signs and alcohol

Big brother time was always an adventure

Chevy truck over 25 years old…Scott was consistent

He’d snicker at hidden secrets and jokes

Always made silly, crazy faces

Loved the term, “Oh my hell”…

Horrible dancer, but so much fun to watch

His grilled steaks and chicken were the best

Always a bottle of Jack in one hand

Hardest worker I’ve ever known

Super blunt, a little too raw for most

He loved his boys

He’d do anything for you

Didn’t matter how much time passed…

He was always there and we never skipped a beat

He fought his type I Diabetes like a champion his entire life

But in the end…at age 52.. it fought back and won.

I had seven brothers… now there are five.

Stay

Please let me stay

I don’t want to go

Over there

Finger pointing

To the dark window

On the second floor

Orange blanket

Blows outside the 

Window

Please don’t leave me

Small hand gripping

In panic

Belly growls

Hungry

Curled up on the 

Washer machine

Covered in a military blanket

Shhhhhhh

Don’t tell them 

I’m here, ok?

Please feed me

I need love

I can’t say if I’ve ever

Known true love

Unconditionally

Please let me stay

Just for a minute

Where it’s safe

And I feel loved

Not alone

Ten years old

I shouldn’t 

Feel so all alone

Please let me shower

And borrow 

Your clothes

I don’t know how to wash 

Can you help me?

Do you see me?

I’m ten years old

And I’ve never known

Safety 

Never known 

A warm bed &

Soft pillows 

A full belly

Three hot meals a day

Unknown to me

Please let me stay

I don’t want to go

Over there

Finger point to the dark window 

On the second floor 

Gardenias & Peach Roses

Dying in the hospital bed

Soft skin, ice chips

Lips cracked and parched

Distended stomach

IVs gurgling in and out of veins

Tumors running rampant

Swallowing internal organs for snacks

A five year battle- ovarian cancer

Touching hands, kissing fingertips- Internalized prayer

“God, if you make her better, 

I will take her place.”

Not better

Emotional pain for those waiting

Sorrow

Tears

Monitors blink

Family members fidget in chairs 

Like little girls having to pee

Opting to hold it for as long 

As they possibly can

Last snuggle in the hospital bed 

Your last sweet breath tickling her ears

Death in her arms

Gardenias and peach roses

The funeral was beautiful

Such a beautiful day

Oh to touch your soft skin one more time

Sun so bright

Orange leaves speckle the mountainside

Hazy sadness lurking behind eyes 

Tears rolling down cheeks

Feeling faint

Sobbing, grabbing at arms…any

A peach rose in hand

Puzzled faces as I drop peach roses and gardenias on a cherry wood casket

I’ll remember her

Every time I see a peach rose or smell gardenias on a sunny day,

I will think of her

Jeni McCreary

*Dedicated to my Grandma Joyce, my Mom & my Aunties. No child should have to hold their parent in their arms when they die, but maybe it is a blessing? My Mom is the little girl in the sweet dress.