It happened very unexpectedly. We were eating dinner. It wasn't anything fancy, just sandwiches and a wonderful salsa hubby had made. I complimented him on how wonderful it was and was contentedly munching away on some tortilla chips.
"You'll have to fix this for Mohhh...," I said. Both of us froze. I kept my eyes on my plate. I had almost said You'll have to fix this for Mommy - she would really like this. Hubby's eyes were on me, watching me carefully. I sat for a moment dipping my chip helplessly in the wonderful salsa that had suddenly lost some of its delicious flavor.
In being apart from him while taking care of Mommy, I had written him many times in my journal, but rarely on paper. Everything I wanted to say seemed to be too personal for letters. In retrospect I know I should have written the letters, let him know just how much I missed him and loved him on a daily basis. In order to fill them I wrote many poems to him, for him. Even after I had returned home I was adjusting with being with him and letting him know within the poetry how much I was hurting, how much I was loving him, how much I longed for something I could not name.
One poem especially came so deeply from my heart. It was written in a moment when I was certain no one would come for me in the end to rescue me from the horror of what was happening. Of course, no one could do such a thing, yet it was important to put forth what I was needing:
Hero Wanted
By Henrietta Asher Handy
Copyright (c) 2004 by Henrietta Asher Handy
Hero wanted:
Must have broad shoulders,
Strong hands,
And a back unafraid of burdens.
Must be willing,
Without complaint,
To have tears spilled
Upon the shoulders and chest,
And arms stout enough
To keep out the cold of life;
Must be willing to face the monster
Even if that monster is me
Applicant must also have a hero’s heart:
Unafraid to love or be afraid,
But strong enough to overcome the fear.
Applicant must possess
Heart-warming smiles for when there are no smiles left
And encouragement when life seems too much.
Those seeking a mother, sister or pal need not apply.
Those unprepared to be challenged, tested and scorched with living
Should stay a safe distance away
So that your dream world will not be threatened.
Only heroes need apply.
It seemed simultaneously I was learning to believe and love anew, and deal with grief at the same time.
Do not reprint with permission.
I just thought you would like to know that you are completely "normal". Thoughts and red hot lines for plays are always jumping into heads. If something jumps into my mind and it looks good I always write it down on anything available even if I don't have a clue what it means long term. You're going through the grieving process which takes its' own sweet time. I enjoyed your "Hero Wanted" poem even though poetry and I go together like oil and water. You may not realize it but you have described a "soulmate" in poetry which is at the apex of the acquaintance, friend, soulmate triangle.
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