I am not a poet so I will not call it a poem. It’s something I went through, and still am going through…

I dedicate this gibberish piece to my beautiful children and to all the mothers who have gone or are going through the ‘Empty Nest Syndrome’!

MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY! Thank-you!

ECHOES

Heartwrenching. This one had me bawling like a baby. Well done, friend. And I would certainly call it a poem.

Thank-you so much for all your support and your unwavering friendship my dearest Ari!!

This was good!

I am not a parent, nor will I ever be a parent. But, I looked at it differently.

Six years ago, my father died. He was 71. Before he died, the family got together once a week for dinner and a game of Scrabble. We did this for years. It was like a family tradition. We'd play for hours. No matter how much I complained I didn't want to go, I'd go. And, I always ended up having a good time.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is, no matter how much time I spent with my father, to me, it wasn't enough. I think I'm still stuck in my "guilt phase" Every time he had to go to the doctor's, I took him. Every time he was rushed to the hospital, I was there. Any time anything happened to that man, I was there.

Or, maybe I just miss him?

As a mother of two grown daughters, I can truly relate to your empty nest syndrome.
I will never forget the day my oldest told me she was moving out. I felt as though a 100 lb weight landed on my chest. I couldn't breathe and can still remember how much pain I was in over the ordeal.

I was blessed to be able to stay home with my two children. I have always been extremely close to them and hope to remain so til the end of my days.
It isn't easy when they leave us. I felt your pain while reading Echoes and have lived it, my dear Zayury.

Beautifully told...
Your screenshots always enhance your stories in every way possible, and this time around, is no exception.

Dear Ed, I am trully sorry for your loss... I lost my mother in 2002 (also 6 years ago)... I totally understand the guilt my friend, I feel it too every day! It is now since my mami's been gone that I understand what she went through, now that it is happening to me... I wish I could tell her so many things and do more things with her but it's too late, she is gone...

Thank-you my dear Ed for taking the time to read 'Echoes' and for the heartfelt comment!


My dear Sugah, THANK-YOU! From our previous e-mails I knew you would understand completely what I was talking about in this piece! Thank-you for ALL YOUR SUPPORT my friend and for your wonderful words!

I'm sorry about your loss also.

Every now and then, I go to visit his crypt and have a chat with him. Tell him all the things that are going on with the family. I sit on the floor right in front of him and carry on a conversation as if he was listening to me. After I'm done, I get up, brush myself off and pat the cover to the crypt twice and say, see ya later.

If I can't make it down there, I've got his picture I talk to.

What I do is, ever since dad died, I tell people, cherish every moment you have with them.

Visiting his crypt is hard sometimes. But, I'm alone when I do go. This way, if I want to cry my eyes out, I can. If I'm with my mother, I have to be strong and let her do her thing. She'll talk and say a few prayers, start sobbing and then compose herself.

The last time I lost it was two weeks before Christmas. I was with my mother. We were in a Target Depatment store looking at Christmas stuff. A few years ago, I bought an ornament for the tree in memory of dad. Well, we looked at a few things here and there and I noticed the same ornament I bought before and I just broke down. I hate doing that in public. But, I had no control. It just happened. After a bit I was ok.

Christmas was my dad's favorite time of year. Every year he went all out on decorations and gifts. This guy would just go on spending spree's. Believe me when I say, everybody looked foward to Christmas time when he was alive. :)

After he died, I would run my mom all over town once a week to the grocery store and anywhere she had to go. Doctor appointments, go visit dad. Anywhere she wanted to go, I'd take her. I did that for about five years. Now my brother does it. I call her almost everyday to check up on her and just before I hang up, I tell her I love her. If I don't call her, she calls me.

My parents are my hero's.

Oh dear Ed, I think that is so wonderful of you to love your parents so much, and to take look after your mom they way you do!

No father for me, but my mami was EVERYTHING to us!!


That has happened to me also! The worst thing is that you never know when a little something will just click a memory, and BOOM the waterworks begin! I can't tell you how many times I have lost it at store parking lots... not to mention here at home watching something on TV where they show a mom and daughter moment, I cry like a baby everytime!!! I miss my mami SO MUCH!!!