Remember how we fought
at four and five –
over whose turn it was
to push the baby buggy?
Your Campbell soup baby face
locks curlier than mine;
eyes a brighter sparkle
How you withdrew from me with age
ashamed your mother was an alcoholic –
I did not care, carried my own secrets
How you chose drugs to cope,
while I went straight – the line
too wide to cross, it seemed.
You were my roots, dear friend
the rock I needed to ground me
Life, back then, never easy
Secrets tore us apart – projections
of judgments never actualized
somehow, I never measured up
I see you now, shrouded in the mist
of my own grief, understand that your turmoil
ran deeper than I had known, and one day
when we meet in Heaven,
I will embrace the whole you
and we will laugh at how secrets
whose very disclosure would have solidified us
kept us more and more distant – so little
did we know of love at the time.
(Lorraine died at the age of 26 – complications from drug use. After her death, I learned that she was a lesbian, a secret that she thought she could not share with me at the time. She had not known that I would not have judged her. Sadly, we never had the chance. I loved her so.)
This is a beautiful tribute to a friendship that seemed to come too soon in little girls’ lives.
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Thanks LuAnne. We were next door neighbours and I can’t remember a door being closed to either of us – my house was hers and hers mine, till my family moved away
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So sorry! What a touching reading.
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Thanks
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So sorry to hear you and your sister were never reconciled. Our siblings are the closest blood relatives we have after the passage of our parents. Me and my siblings were raised to compete with each other. We are still learning how to support and encourage each other in our old age. Praying that my children will continue to support and encourage each other after I’m gone.
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It makes such a difference. Thanks for reading.
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You’re welcome
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This poem is an emotional tug but a very special tribute to your dear friend.
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Thank you
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Your poem is beautiful, but how heartbreaking, VJ. ❤️
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Thanks Lauren
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I was very moved by this poem to your sister.
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Thanks Liz. She was actually the girl next door – my best friend growing up. I am still in touch with her family and game my second daughter her name.
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You’re welcome, VJ. It’s good that you’re keeping her memory alive.
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Too many too afraid. (K)
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This was the 70s and 80s. I thought we had come so far…. it’s a tragedy that doesn’t need to be.
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I know. We never seem to learn anything.
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This is beautiful, VJ. I’m sorry you had to experience this loss. Secrets is something I’ve been talking about with people, in general. I wish we could all stop hiding.
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Thanks K. I wish we could too.
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So very tragic 🤗💞
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Thanks Roberta.
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A very sad story for such a short life. Your compassion comes through.
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Thanks Heather.
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You’re welcome.
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So sad – and that last stanza, how poignant and true about our younger selves….
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Thanks Lynne
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So sad, sorry you never had the chance to make amends.
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Thanks Jan.
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🧡
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So powerful, especially these words, for me: …”projections
of judgments never actualized”. How easy it can be to push the most important people away. Thank you, VJ, for sharing. 💕
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It hurts to think she thought I might reject her. Secrets like hers serve no one. 🙏
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Agree, agree, agree. Thank you, dear one. 💕
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Such a sad end to life
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Absolute tragedy.
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Hugs
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Thank you so much VJ for sharing this. I am so moved by your courage.
As Mothers we all have regrets…I certainly do. Through our learning and speaking about our personal experience we help others who are going through similar trauma. Janet
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I believe that is true, Janet. I wanted to share Lorraine and my story, especially now, when society’s choices threaten to promote more secrets. We can’t go back to sleep. Thank you.
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No we can’t – it’s vital that we don’t go back. Again thank you.
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So very sad. 🤗❤️
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It really was. Thanks Jon
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A heartbreaking poem. More so because it might have been different with a little more trust.
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Exactly. If she had only opened up to me…
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