Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts

Thursday, June 4, 2015

I'd Be Lying


If I said I had never been in love
I'd be lying, 
Sailing on an open road,
Beneath a blanket of stars,
Glimmering light reflect in our eyes,
Unspoken secrets dance in our hearts,
Whisper trust,
Between promising souls,
If I said I had never been in love,
I'd be lying.

If I said I didn't miss you
I'd be lying,
Mapping lines around your eyes,
Lost in the turn of your smile,
Intertwined and connected,
Your hand in mine,
If I said I didn't miss you, 
I'd be lying.

If I said I didn't believe in you,
I'd be lying.
Between the grey and blues,
A night bird coos,
Familiar melodies floating in air,
On softness of moonlight,
I know you're there,
If I said I didn't believe in you,
I'd be lying.

Happy Anniversary, Baby.  I miss you.
~Breathing~


Saturday, February 14, 2015

L O V E


Dear Darling, Happy Valentine's Day.  It has been three years and two months since I have kissed you.  I miss you, Babe.  I dream of you often.  As the years have passed~ Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter continue to flow as scheduled.  The children are growing, fine young people.  Our home, still safe and comforting.  The river so surreal, a beautiful gift everyday.  Sunrise and sunsets, with birds flying and making sounds.  The fish jumping upon waves of diamonds.  Clouds, kissed by light, whisper and beckon .  
The Stars, though, as beautiful as they are, To me, do not shine as brightly.  However, the Moon, is as mystical and glowing~ as ever before.  Blooming and ever-changing, like a Rose.  
I could go on and on.  Words really can't explain the transformations that occur moment by moment in the daily life.  For You, words do not have to.  You penetrate my heart, existing in all that my senses allow. ~~~Breathing~~~

“There is a time for departure, even when there is no certain place to go.” 
Tennessee William

****Hello, this is Breathing, I just wanted to Thank You for all the support you have given to Pulmonary Fibrosis, as well as me.  My 'counter' indicates 13,208 people have come to my blog, from many different countries.  I hope our family's experience has helped to raise awareness.  I do know this blog has helped me through such a difficult time.  I have shared with you our experience and have never held back, because most of this I typed in 'real-time'.  Now, I have transformed a bit since my husband's passing.  Not too much, but just enough to somehow realize that I have many thoughts that are better realized in my own time.  I will not post as much here, but anything that seems newsworthy to our cause will not be ignored.  Thank You my beautiful friends.  You show support just by coming here and reading this:

The word "pulmonary" means “lung” and the word "fibrosis" means scar tissue – similar to scars that you may have on your skin from an old injury or surgery. So, in its simplest sense, pulmonary fibrosis (PF) means scarring in the lungs. But, pulmonary fibrosis is more serious than just having a scar in your lung. In PF, the scar tissue builds up in the walls of the air sacs of the lungs, and eventually the scar tissue makes it hard for oxygen to get into your blood. Low oxygen levels (and the stiff scar tissue itself) can cause you to feel short of breath, particularly when walking and exercising.
Also, pulmonary fibrosis isn’t just one disease. It is a family of more than 200 different lung diseases that all look very much alike (see “Causes and Symptoms” below). The PF family of lung diseases falls into an even larger group of diseases called the “interstitial lung diseases.” Some interstitial lung diseases don't include scar tissue. When an interstitial lung disease includes scar tissue in the lung, we call it pulmonary fibrosis.

The most common symptoms of PF are cough and shortness of breath. Symptoms may be mild or even absent early in the disease process. As the lungs develop more scar tissue, symptoms worsen. Shortness of breath initially occurs with exercise, but as the disease progresses patients may become breathless while taking part in everyday activities, such as showering, getting dressed, speaking on the phone, or even eating.
Due to a lack of oxygen in the blood, some people with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis may also have “clubbing” of the fingertips. Clubbing is a thickening of the flesh under the fingernails, causing the nails to curve downward. It is not specific to IPF and occurs in other diseases of the lungs, heart, and liver, and can also be present at birth.
Other common symptoms of pulmonary fibrosis include:
  • Chronic dry, hacking cough
  • Fatigue and weakness
  • Discomfort in the chest
  • Loss of appetite
  • Unexplained weight loss
The Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation is here to help you understand what it means to have pulmonary fibrosis. You can always reach us through our Patient Communication Center at 844.Talk.PFF or by email at pcc@pulmonaryfibrosis.org.

~~~~For my Baby, On Valentine's Day~~~~

"FIELDS OF GOLD"

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold
You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

AIR ~Written by Connie J. Tucker

AIR 
I watch his fear slowly diminish, but mine intensely grows,
As I watch him breathe through a portable oxygen hose.  
I suppose I shouldn't be overly protective, overbearing,
But does anyone know who to call for lung repairing? There is this waiting list, they call it that for a purpose,
Lingering by to wait for someone else to die, a donor circus.  
Still that isn't enough, he may not fit the criteria for a new lung,
Not healthy enough, not sick enough, replaced by someone young.  I try not to complain as he is so humble and patient,
I cannot accept his condition, as he is perfectly complacent.  
Its impossible to watch someone you love struggle for air,
I looked to God for answers, and used to wonder if he was there.  I used to think that this is the work of some celestial scandal,
Then I remembered, God gives us no more than we all can handle.
There is no room for blame, this disease has an agenda all its own,
I only now pray that I had the strength that my loved one has shown.His endurance is an avalanche of cascading strife..
Teaching me to truly breathe the oxygen of inner life.
~Connie J. Tucker

**Connie J. Tucker is niece to Jeff Tucker and wrote this poem to express her feelings about him having Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis.  Connie, you are an amazing writer!  ~Thanks to Jeff for allowing me to publish her poem. xoxo ~Breathing

Sunday, January 12, 2014

A Caregiver By Oliver W. Hassett


~A Caregiver~
I am brought back to a memory so very long ago.
You loved me and I loved you; that’s all we needed to know!

We were ready for our new life
Could storm through any kind of weather.
As long as we had each other,
We would always stay together!

“For better or worse,” “In sickness and in health”
Were promises we thought we’d understand.
But life threw a curve ball and showed us
That nothing ever goes as planned.

One day, something happened which caused us much grief.
Life interrupted, stole your health like a thief!

On came your disease
Which I could not understand.
I was frightened quite often
But I entrusted you in God’s hand.

I don’t want to treat you with pity.
Acting as if you were my child.
I just don’t know where to draw the line.
This disease is so dang wild!

Not to sound selfish, but I’m a person too!
Very few know all that caregivers must do!
People can’t see our pain because we hide it well.
If they’d stop and ask us questions,
Oh! The stories we could tell!

I know you can’t understand what’s going on,
This disease is a killer, no doubt!
But we’re all strong together,
And that’s what love is about!

So please don’t forget about me, the frightened caregiver at best.
We’ll keep our faith in each other, and in God, we’ll safely rest.

I don’t care what you can or cannot do.
The purpose of this poem is to say that I love you!

Those vows were not for nothing.
I meant each word I said.
No matter what might happen,
We will still be lovingly wed.

This disease doesn’t make you any less of a person.
Just changes the style of your life.
Remember that you’ll always be my wife,
And I’ll always be your husband!
~Oliver W. Hassett

**Thank You, Oliver, for allowing me to share your honest, heartfelt insights on the depth of love and courage that goes into being a caregiver.   ~Breathing

Monday, December 9, 2013

That Obnoxious Phrase~ SOB

Written by: LaVerne Wilson
One of the ways I cope with my IPF is by making fun of myself and my quirks. I posted this on my Facebook page today, and have decided to share it here. Maybe somebody will find a smile or chuckle in it...

A year ago I had a heart valve replaced.
But there was another big problem I faced,
When I got on a treadmill to take a walk
I found that didn't have enough air to talk.

We got to a doctor, his name was Chisti,
The sign on his door said “Pulmonary”.
He looked me all over to give diagnosis,
And came back with a bad word: “ Fibrosis”.

That came as a shock of course, but as I looked down
On his worksheet, my face sure showed a frown.
'Cause on that paper, a line I could see
That said my “Complaint” was – “SOB.”

Now, I don't use words like that; I surely know
That that epithet means something quite low.
I knew my mom well, and it sure doesn't fit
Her sweet personality, spirit, and wit.

Yet it stared right up at me, I couldn't deny
What it said on that paper. But why, oh why
Would that nice doctor deign to call me
That nasty ol' term of an SOB?

Now when I can't do something I used to do,
Or when I'm breathless after tying a shoe,
Or when my oxygen tube hangs up on a chair,
Or when I look at my now-thinning hair,

Or when I am finding that I must ask
For someone's help for a simple li'l task
I think I can grasp why that doc might call me
That obnoxious phrase of SOB.

But all's well that ends well, for as we thought out 
What we saw that that paper was talking about.
It wasn't a cuss word but instead a contraction
of my lung's insufficient breathing reaction.

We laughed as we saw that the cause of complaint
Wasn't what we thought, for cussing it ain't.
As a symptom of lung disease we now clearly see--
“Shortness of Breath” truncates to “ S.O.B.”
~LaVerne Wilson

**Thank You, LaVerne, for allowing me to share this wonderful tongue and cheek poem.  I know when I first heard someone within the Pulmonary Fibrosis community refer to SOB, I thought they had a potty-mouth ;)  Now, I know better!  ~Breathing

Sunday, July 7, 2013

I Think About You

                                                         
I Think About You,
About the way your hair felt running through my fingers,
Your Heart, 
 I laid my head on your chest,

I think about You,
Holding your hand,
The Blue of your eyes,
Sound of your Voice,

I think about You,
And talk to You aloud,
All of our Smiles,

Feeling You with me,
Things we still do,
I Think About You.