I lost the love of my life this year in a car accident. He was taken from me on September 19, 2018. He was only 26. My day started like normal. I was getting ready for work and then my doorbell rang. I thought it was him coming home from work, but it was 2 police officers. They asked my name. When I told them, they said that my fiancé had been in a car accident. Hearing them telling me he didn’t make it, my heart crumbled. I just laid him to rest 2 weeks ago, and the pain is still fresh. My heart is sore and numb. Reading how all you guys are going through similar things, knowing I’m not the only one feeling this pain, sucks. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone. I just wish I could go back and tell him I love him, hear his voice one last time, have my arms around him telling him over and over what he means to me, but I can’t. I’m only 20 and we were together 3 years.
I can so relate. My son, 33 now, moved to the states 5 years ago. Of course he found himself a girlfriend whose family is always in the picture. Since he had been a teenager, he started resenting me in every which way. His dad was never there for him or cared to have anything to do with him, and that side of the family seems to be the ones that are important. Funny how I was Mom to always clear the debts. There was a disagreement some time ago. I was told some ugly things by both, and we have not had contact since. I'm not even acknowledged with a card for birthdays or any other occasions. It hurts very much, but I have taken every day as it comes. I think of the situation all the time, and it saddens me a lot.
I wake up this morning, my 90-year-old body feeling well as it casually recites the Sneezles poem in the back of my mind. I have done so many other times! My four grown children are now reading it to their own offspring, my grandchildren. Any parent with a cranky child sick in bed can relate to the last lines of the poem, "Now how to amuse them today?" As for myself, I wake up daily, grateful for good health and energy, and wondering "How to amuse myself and others today?" Christopher Robin is still my buddy.
I understand how you guys feel. I never knew my father, but my mom always told me how great he was. When I turned 18, I asked my mom if I could see him. She sat me down and told me that he actually wasn't what she made him out to be. Because she wanted me to grow up thinking that my dad was a great person, she wanted me to grow up thinking that he wanted me and my little sister, but he didn't. He had every chance to, but he only ever came to see us twice. So my mom moved me and my siblings away because she wanted us to think the world of him and only told us the good things about him. And to be honest, I still cry at night silently to myself so no one else can hear me. It still breaks my heart that he doesn't want me or want to see me, but I know deep down that I don't ever want to meet him because my mom makes me more happy than he ever could.
I cried reading your poem because I know how it feels. You try to be everything they want you to be and it is never enough. I am sick of trying. I want to tell them to stop, but if I do it shows them weakness. I am really glad that someone has the guts to put it out there.
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I can relate to this story. I went down this road for 15 years. Battling addiction is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have been clean for 5 years, and i have had to watch my son go down the same road. The other day he asked me, "Mom, how do you do it?" And I said, "You need to look into your baby's eyes and think how you will explain it to them that a pill or needle meant more to you than they did. Or just think if one of those babies found you dead, how do you think they could cope with that?" I hope I got through to him. It's no life to live. Mine started as a back problem. I never knew that it could turn to what I have gone through, but God has pulled me out of hell, so please if you're reading this and think no one cares, you're wrong. Your family does. They just don't understand addiction unless they have walked in those shoes. Turn to God and he will hold your hand.
Hello all readers and writers,
I am sure we all have experienced that intense love where we feel the existence of that one person when they are with us or away. This poem gives a lot of courage to all those who have experienced the strength and powers you got from the love. We often forget to value ourselves, and we give love and respect to others. In all this time they do not realize they are not giving the respect and love we deserve.
I, too, found this poem when I was going through a break-up.
I was also abused and raped from 10-14. I got out to another home and was raped again. I tried to tell, but no one believed me, so I just kept quiet. I'm now 52. It still haunts me. my niece at 26 passed away from also being abused. Heroin is how she dealt with it. She just came clean before this happened. I should have spoken up and done something because it was her grandpa (my stepfather).
Poignantly written, this poem enhances our relived childhood memories. A snowball capturing the vivid imagination of an innocent mind, all enraptured through an adult mindset.
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