TO SHARI




Three years have gone without you;
It seems forever and yet
it seems like just yesterday
that I saw you last.

Three years I've cried about you;
It seems a long, long time.
It seems like yesterday
you were here
and I didn't yet know what sorrow was.

Now, that sorrow lives in me;
I carry it in my soul.
It sometime sleeps
and lets me live in peace.
It comes at times and takes my breath away.

Why you left
I never can comprehend,
or at least why
you didn't comprehend
the devastating pain you would leave behind
in many who cared about you.

Three years.
I now know what I feel will last
the rest of my life.
The difference now, three years later 
is I know how to hide my pain better.

No one can really understand,
Unless they have given birth
to a beautiful child
who takes that life
one day short of the seventeenth anniversary
of that birth.

Memories of you are completely overshadowed
by the image of my discovery
of your final act.
The unbelievable scene
comes shrieking back;
a scene like a horror movie,
the ones I always refused to watch
because I was too sensitive to bear them.
I cannot turn it off.
It flashes on at the mere
mention of a word, 
a certain kind of dark weather,
or anything at all.

I wish I could have you back so much,
I imagine how I might have saved you.
Just one chance,
I wish I had one more chance
to make you understand that we needed you,
We loved you.
	       
You are gone.
I am alive.
I must grow stronger in order to be truly alive. 
I am trying.

It is like swimming in a strong current. 
I am always afraid I will be pulled under.
But I keep fighting for air
and trying as hard as I can.
		      

May, 1994

 

TO SHARI
On the Fifth Anniversary of Your Death


I can't believe how sad I still
do feel about this day.
Once five years seemed a long, long time;
but  little time seems gone.
I cling to days, those years ago;
when you were still sixteen.

I think I see you when I catch 
a glimpse of auburn hair;
the graceful walk,
the friendly smile,
still linger in my mind.

Tomorrow should be a special day;
You would be twenty-two.
On that fine day, when you were born;
that joyful, blessed day;
Yours was a swift and easy birth, 
my precious baby child.

The memory now brings only tears
for futile dreams of hope.
I could not know how swift the years
of your short life would fly.

I cannot think upon it long;
so filled with pain am I;
To think that you so little held
the value of that life;
So precious deemed, by those who loved
you then, and love you now.

So may the grace and joy I hoped
would always be with you;
Be with you in eternity;
my precious baby child.

Donna S. Fitts
May 1, 1996






TO SHARI, IN YOUR MEMORY


How do I remember you,
when all I see is sad
memories on the surface
only of the bad things
etched upon my mind?

Where are memories of your face,
wonderful years of your childhood?
I held a treasure in my hand
Your candle, hand dipped
I cried.

I thought it would help me
feel closer to your memory.
Every time I come close to
a good memory of you
I sob like I haven't in years.

Over six years now
I have not consciously tried
to recall your face very often
since it causes
such strong emotion.
It interferes with my living.
Today I missed you.
For a time I will cry.

Donna S. Fitts
July 1997