I sat in my car today following my physical therapy appointment and had a "moment". Feeling overwhelmed by grief, I watched my tears splash onto my T-shirt, and I thought about the old proverb that tells us not to cry over spilled milk. This is what came out of me as I fumbled for pen and paper and jotted down notes...in handwriting that has become even difficult for ME to read:
Barbie & The Milk Proverb
Let me cry
Over my spilled milk.
It is not the milk
I grieve,
But loss of
The simple act of
Pouring
Liquid into cup.
How I take for granted
What used to be
Mindless tasks
Of rote memory.
My flesh no longer
Feeling the smoothness
Of the cup
Beneath fingers
Weakened by disease.
These foreign appendages,
Stiffly positioned
Like arms
Hanging from a
Plastic doll,
Serving no purpose.
Barbie has no brain
To bring these
Hands
Back to life.
8 comments:
Hot Dahmn ya little Barbie Doll -- that's a very profound, confounded and sagacious piece of poetry you've written...scary, too.
You are amazing ... I'm very impressed with all that flows from your mind (but not the, ahem, lower part of your anatomy). You've etched in our minds and hearts a powerful proverb.
Curses to the beast within!
...and on top of it all, salty tears dry out the skin. ((((((((((((BIG HUGS)))))))))))))) to you my friend.
Stay inspired!
Michelle
Expand your mind ~ visit Brain Angles
My eyes are welling up reading that...like Michells said, HUGS to you.....
S.
(((hugs)))
Consarnit! Your blog is supposed to be funny, not sad. I'm toasting you with salty tears of my own.
Hope that Ty kicks in and gives your Barbie hands new life.
Good thing you didn't use the Scarecrow for an example. LOL...if I only had a brain. At least Barbie's hands are much prettier and less scratchy.
Pay no attention to the woman behind the fingolimod blog.
Be well, sistah!
Hugs, Ms.Cheese. Journaling and writing in my opinion is some of the best therapy. Some day soon you will re-read this passage and see it as a distant memory and wonder if that really was you. Just know that this too shall pass. there are much much better days ahead.
I remember that when I got MS I thought, "As long as my brain works I can handle whatever happens physically even though it will be hard." You are handling it. It is hard to lose the little skills we take for granted but I would rather write a thousand beautiful, inspring poems than walk. I hope you feel better but either way, I treasure your brilliance :)
WOW!
I feel that any comment I make will spoil the moment. Er, make that The Moment.
I had to sit with this poem for a while because about the same time that you were in your car, I was on my couch crying because I was unable to move my right foot. I was trying to do my PT exercise of picking up plastic pegs with my toes and move them to the right. I sat there staring at my unresponsive foot when all of a sudden tears started streaming down my face. I didn't know why. Your poem explains why.
Thank you my love!
I am hoping this is a temporary relapse and you feel the smoothness of the cup again.
Get well sooon!
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