04-15-02 after Tae Kwon Do
Wondering will they make it to your memorial? Holiday weekend and all that. Who knows? precious one. Not me.
I was asked what I would most want to do to immortalize you with my writing – but I did not answer completely truthfully. If I had I would have said, “I want Bekah's name to be a household word.” I responded truthfully – for you to be known, remembered –
Didn‘t add let one child be saved, but you know if one child was saved it would be an excellent thing, while never ameliorating that truth which cannot change:
You shouldn’t be dead.
Oh, oh…through the bleak I pick my way to something more closely resembling a life. You are with me; but you are not and will not be, ever again in my life. I am pulled from my core to any number of places:
N Death. I used to be afraid to die. No more. I will see Bekah then, we will be together on the same plane.
E
Life. I breathe and I have
not one suicide bone in my body. As I have contended since the day you died, if
I am breathing I want to be living.
Æ
Numb. To sit, play
Tri-Peaks and poker and smoke and surf the web and just leave every other
question behind – I don’t know if they arise from Life or Death; I do know that
pain attends and has attended for seventy-five percent of a year. If I am numb I
am not living and I am not suffering – except! I do not possess the hide for
numbness. Back to Life I go, and so
—
Health – be vital, go
to work.
L
Mourning – suffer bereft
mother. My grief remains a monster.
So. I have accepted the fact of my daughter’s death. I still choke on the bitter pill forced down my throat when her justice was denied not only by her murderer but by the district attorney – and Bekah I miss you.
The Seasons Change. Spring will give way to Summer, our season. If there were characteristics you shared with your mom the love of sun was certainly one. Now the sun provides beauty that is tainted. You don’t get that sun.
Oh gawd. It hurts. Many times I think of you at school at the door on the phone laughing, laughing…yes you have gifted me in many ways that I be able to find and hold the faith that will allow me with time to live in peace although you no longer live.
But I long for the moments you are missing as if I am you Bekah. Good gawd who’s going to try and tell me that you would not still be alive if IT were up to you?
Everyday tragedy. I still peruse the log Bekah. And every day, every single day, tragedies play out. Sometimes it’s murder as with you. But nobody wants to believe that – anyhow.
Honey I love you. Bekah! I love you and always will.
forever. mom
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9-16-01 4:04 a.m. - You Had to Ask - Poem for a China Plate - Myth - Did You Know Your WomanSign Guestbook View Guestbook
Barbara Bales 1997-2007 all rights reserved
Impact Statement Delivered to the Court at the sentencing hearing of the woman who killed my only daughter, Bekah poetry tag results - Bales Law
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