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mornings past (observation on grief)






mornings past recalled,
every do different stands out—
like lipstick on teeth with an ignorant smile...
mourning's gasp you can't forstall,
forget me not be damned!
there is no getting ahead of it all...
grief's nuances don't relent to your stonewall—
breaking you down to marrow, 
anguish is a harsh yet merciful teacher;
retrospectively discerned,
after the fall. 





© September 1, 2025 | baccusbee 



(Words mine. Image created with starryai, a collaboration between human and AI called synthography. Thanks for reading.)



In 2023, I faced what we all must go through with little to no support- loosing my Mother. 

She required complex care and suffered a tremendous amount of pain. Which is ironic, because she was the sweetest person you could ever imagine meeting with a heart full of compassion, grace and love for everyone around her.

I still grapple with the degree to which she suffered in a Universal sense, yet endeavor to stay humble understanding not everything in this life will make sense.

Though I have progressed along in the grief process, it's still very much raw and not something I can speak of in great detail yet. 

I'm feeling the weight of it this week as the anniversary of her passing approaches, still trying to get in and stay in a frame of mind to celebrate the fact that she is no longer suffering-which I am so grateful for!

It's just, the degree of suffering I witnessed is something I can't unwitness. It stays with me and tries to overshadow the celebratory feeling that she's whole on the other side. 

I wanted the story book quality time by my Mother at her bedside in her final days and that is not what we got. I did my level set best to keep her needs met and components of her care running smoothly while working full time hours.

Everything I could have done better will always haunt me. The only way I could get through this time was to lean into a stoic frame of mind. Otherwise, I would have caved in and been useless to her in her time of need.

If not for my husband and my father (a continent away), I wouldn't even of had emotional support during this time. With my child in the throes of a demanding internship, I chose to shield them from my anguish so they could focus on the matters they have at hand. 
 
God bless them both. They are my Earth Angels.


You can read another one of my poems working through this grief here- 'grief is a cruel tide'.


In gratitude and grace-
baccus bee

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