No More Tears to Cry

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Bereavement Poems

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A couple of years
since that beautiful August day...
I still remember it like it was yesterday
(I guess to me, it always will be.)

Rain poured down as if it desperately needed to rid itself
of all moisture...
as if the clouds felt that they had to rid themselves of all of the water...
that very night,
or else the world would come to a drastic end.

To me, that "end" came anyway.

The streets at home were pools of water
with cars spinning out of control...
she never had a chance to grow up.

She was only 14.

Too young to have experienced life on her own,
but too old to have had it spoon fed to her.

She wanted to be independent...
a rebel...
she wanted to say that she'd done it without her parents
ever knowing...
but they always found out.

Midafternoon, August 7, 1997
they showed up at Camp Mennonscah
"Mom & I are SO SORRY, Chrystal,"
were the first words out of Daddy's mouth
"but Bonnie died today."
The world came to a shuddering stop
and yet,
managed to continue spinning.

"You don't know what you're talking about!
She's at home, just sleeping...not dead..."

(it's over)

that's my dead little sister...
it's truly her.

A best friend to so many...her life stolen away.

I saw her in that damned casket
no movement
although I could've sworn that at any moment
she was just going to rise up
out of the baby blue bed that she rested in
and bring peace to a room
full of grief...

it didn't even look like her.

Too long, I glared at her--
questions running through my mind like a freight train
at a speed too fast
to comprehend.

"God, she was just a kid.
How could a life so young
be stolen so quickly?"

No reply.  I got infuriated with God--
she was just a kid!
Sure, she made a few bad choices sometimes,
but I never thought they were severe enough to be punishable
by death.

The next day,
as I witnessed the casket (again) that held the breathless body
of my dearest sister
be lowered into the earth,
tears poured down my cheeks like rain out of heaven.

I wondered for so long about the life of my sister...
I pondered the question so many times...

why shall the innocent die while the murderers run free?

How come she never got to fulfill the
"perfect plan" that we are all promised?

Her death was a lesson to all that she left behind--
life is fragile.

There is no way to control who lives and dies...
all that we can do is have faith in life.

Good and bad are obvious and sometimes not so obvious.
Right and wrong choices can determine life or death.

So it's time for us to wake up
and mourn no more,
for time will heal our shattered hearts
and one day...
there will be no more tears to cry.



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