Godsends

The Love Plant - has bloomed three times since it was given to me - on Memorial Day, Thanksgiving and Easter

Godsends

Dear Barry,
I’m here again needing
to connect with you.
I’ve been sorting through
all my poetry in the hopes
of publishing so that maybe
our love, my healing from
your departing
will help others.
More and more I cherish how
you were a godsend to me,
and I to you.
That’s the word that dropped
into my head yesterday
when I thought of you
as I pondered which
pieces of my heart to share.
Godsend.
It’s all through the writings
I’ve done these past years,
that sense of rightness of
the intertwining of our lives.
I’m just so grateful for your love,
for the caring protection
you extended just by being you
with me.
And even though it has not
been easy to adjust to your death,
I’m grateful for the fruits
of my labors as I
forge ahead
and more fully bloom.
They are godsends, too.
I love you, Barry.
I always will.
I'm so happy that we
were godsends for
each other.

Sarah Carlson

April 28, 2017

Fatherly Love

Carrabassett Valley, Maine - the Bigelows from Sugarloaf Mountain

Life surely is complicated. When one decides to explore the complexities of the past as I have there are so many layers and levels involved. Though at times tiring and perplexing, it's also amazing and freeing.

Yesterday I felt the love of my dad during an Osteopathic treatment. He's been gone for over 5 years now and it felt nice to experience this, to be sure. I think he would want me to share... and if not, I'm going to anyway because I get to choose...

I chose the above picture because the Carrabassett Valley was one of his favorite places as he spent many hours skiing the trails of Sugarloaf. I love the shadows, the vastness, the frozen sides of the trees as they solidly endure the weather.

There's more to the story, but I'm going to let the poem and the picture speak for themselves.

Fatherly Love

I sit on his lap as he wraps strong, safe arms
around my vibrant little body.
“I love you sweet Sarah,”
he whispers into my ear.
I feel my whole being light up.
Disdain and anger soon enter the room,
but his love envelops me in
a protective, though fragile, bubble.
Years later I run across the front lawn
and jump into those shielding arms.
He spins me round and round -
gently, but with gusto.
I giggle at first, then ask him to stop.
He does so quickly and checks to see if I am okay.
I am when we are outside,
but we go in to where jealousy and despair
pulsate and pervade.
His protection wanes as time passes
and my being becomes more and more unsure.
Eventually it’s clear that, though he means well,
he just can’t ward it off any more.
He’s become enmeshed in it
as it relentlessly attacks from multiple origins.
In fact, he’s actually complicit
as they all enable each other
in a twisted nest of dysfunction
and denial of the truth.

I move on in my life with
gentle courage and quiet strength
that lead me to find pathways to healing.
I am expanding more and more
into my fullness now,
though he’s gone.

I think I felt him today, though.
It’s been so long, but I think I sensed
his untainted fatherly love .
All the layers of yuck were peeled away
and I had just a few moments of
trusting it, allowing it, feeling
safe to be with it.
I know my father loved me,
but he just couldn’t protect me
as things were then.
Maybe, just maybe,
I can let the purity of fatherly love
embrace me now.

Sarah Carlson

April 18, 2017

Mother Love

Artwork by Judith Aldrich - June 2015

For a long time I've understood that some things that I can freely put out into the world were/have been missing for me. Part of my healing has been to feel this, get this - physically, emotionally and spiritually.
Yesterday I had an experience that, I believe, was and will continue to be part of ongoing transformation...

Mother Love

I open sleepy eyes and see her
peering over the edge of the crib,
carefully checking… on me.
The pureness of her
love oozes over the rail,
between the slats
 as it gently winds around
and through my being.
Her kind eyes sparkle with the
simple joy of being my mom.
I feel comfortable
 within though
my blanket has fallen away,
the warmth of her guardianship
and acceptance
wrapping me in safety.
She picks up my blanket,
folds it and sets it aside.
She knows that in that moment
I have no need for it.
Slowly and gently she slides
her hands under me and lifts.
I am at once suspended
and connected,
my foundation
healthy and strong.
She lays me against her and
I feel our hearts beating together,
though each has a chest of its own.
I snuggle my face
into the tenderness of her skin,
close my eyes and
allow myself to soak in
the sweet, soft sensations of
Mother Love.

Sarah Carlson

April 4, 2017