The scars of losing my parents

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  • Sadness

    The scars of losing my parents

    Since childhood I’ve dreamed of having a happy family,
    I’ve dreamed of seeing my other siblings in harmony;
    Like seasons of the year where changes can be seen,
    Similar to our human experience dubbed with ups and downs.

    As a child I experienced the pain of losing my loved ones,
    especially my own father who I never saw when he passed away;
    He’s far away, confined in the hospital with my older brother.
    I cried so hard, went to my parents’ room and blamed God.

    It was one of the great storms that knocked us down,
    my own mother had all the responsibilities to shoulder;
    She brought us up with all the sufferings and pains
    She bore with them like a humble servant of all.

    My mother’s mother continued to support us in many ways,
    She became part of our disciplined Christian formation;
    Her love for us was like a gauge of a mother’s love,
    with interiority of faith and mission to think about the poor.

    Her role model in our family became a challenge for me.
    She impressed in my mind how to live as a responsible man;
    given the chance to explore my life in the world of today,
    undaunted by fear; encouraged by those who really dream.

    The painful spike in our journey as fatherless in the family,
    was the tragedy of envy and hatred that truly ruined us;
    Yet with an attitude of love and forgiveness deep inside,
    I would say that God never sleeps - to be of help to us.

    Along with my family relations who came into the picture,
    their soaring irritation and impatience to assist us heretofore,
    Just a lesson, a part of history that makes me recall in prayer,
    a gateway to reconciliation, a ministry to those in trouble.

    As themes on faith, knowledge, love and oneness with God
    continue to be the revelations of Christ in our journey as persons;
    I feel that he’s never written in straight lines but rather in crooked ones,
    some of them are our own lines and living witnesses in this world.

    I really miss my own mother, my own father: my parents,
    in spite of their weaknesses and shortcomings as human beings,
    Their love and sacrifices for their children never failed,
    because they’re sibling souls who knew about God’s love for all.









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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    mark25’s Poems (43)

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