Old Fears

I hate it when I start thinking someone has said something that they haven’t said.  Old issues and fears raise their ugly heads to the surface and I find myself responding to them instead of what is actually happening.  I’d rather not have this happen but suppose it is part of my journey to healing.  In some ways, it would be easier for me to decide for the other person what it is they feel, what it is they are saying, what it is they want.  It’s less painful to confirm my fears to myself rather than have the other person confirm them.  But, then, where does that leave me?  Where does it leave them?  I know it’s not quite fair to either of us.  My fears are based on what my reality has been in the past but my fears don’t get to decide my current or future reality.  In my mind, I know the likelihood is small that these fears are true but my heart is terrified.  I know these are my own issues I must work through.  It is nothing the other person has said or done.  I don’t really want them to know how much turmoil I’m in over something that hasn’t even happened.  It sounds crazy.  I’ve learned to work these things out on my own and so I try to do this.  Then a memory of a few things I, myself, have said before comes to my mind – ‘some wounds can’t be healed on their own….. you must risk someone seeing you for who you are….. you are not alone in your fears’.

So, after struggling with it on my own for a little too long, I take that excruciating step of telling the other person what it is I fear, what it is that hurts, what it is I’m hearing them say even though they’ve never said it.  I trust just a little bit more.  I let someone in just a little more.  And while I don’t quite understand, my fears are not confirmed.  The love has not disappeared.  I have not done anything wrong.  I have not been abandoned.  I am still loved.  I am still held.  I am still valued.  And as I recover from this storm of emotions, I rest in these arms; I rest in this love; I rest in this new knowledge I have gained.  I rest my weary and treasured heart and say thank you.

What I Look For

What I Look For

Money can come and go

Social status is tenuous and filled with pressure

Popularity means nothing to me

Careers/jobs do not define you

Good looks and perfect bodies

inevitably change

I do not look for these things


I look at the beauty in your soul

I look at the kindness in your heart

I look at where your passions lie

I look at how you treat others

I look at the compassion  you display

I look at where you’re headed

I look at how you handle anger and hurt

I look at your character

I look at what you do when no one is around

I look at who you are

I look for what is important to me

(c) 2016 SM Hannon

The Awakening Years

Looking Back

My mom worked as a nurse in the operating room for years.  Now, she is being operated on.  Her sister is there in the waiting room thinking I don’t know what – she’s trying not too subtly to get information from me about why they haven’t talked in years.  My mom’s friend is praying it will be a benign tumor.  My sister does not know what to think.  I’m hoping the cancer would at least be somewhat contained and treatable but I suspect differently.

The surgeon comes out from operating and describes the status of the cancer – it looks like paint being sprayed from a spray paint can – like the tumor had exploded and left tiny dots dispersed throughout the abdomen.  They took the big pieces out but there is no way to remove it all.  It should respond to chemo, depending on what type of cancer it is.

My mom couldn’t handle the chemo.  Her body was tired.  She knew they might open and close her right back up.  Before the surgery, she had a feeling it might be inoperable and wanted me to prepare for that.  How does one prepare for that?

After the surgery, she struggled to breathe.  She pulled the intubation tube out herself right after surgery.  She knew if she was intubated for very long, she would not be able to come off it – her lungs were too weak.

People didn’t understand my concern with intubation.  “If she’s put on it, it’s only to help her” Help her what?  I knew what it would mean.  I just knew; so did my mom. It didn’t have to make sense to anyone else as long as they tried everything else first.

She had one chemo treatment and soon after developed an infection.  Her immune system was shot.  Her organs started shutting down.  She started to see and talk to people who had died before her.  I told the nurses to come in there.  I knew what was happening.  But it was shift change.

I told her I’d be okay but had no idea how I would actually achieve this.  I told her it was okay for her to go, it was okay to leave…that I was sorry she had to go through this.  She was sorry I had to see her go through it.

I kept telling them to check her temperature; she was shivering and burning up at the same time.  I crawled into the hospital bed trying to both keep her warm and comfort her.  The nurse finally came in….after shift change.  It was a little late by then.  They had to intubate, she ended up on the damn ventilator.  The next morning she died.  She didn’t have time for them to “give report”, to finish their shift change.

Now, I say “it is alright, mom.  You were suffering. And I kept my promise – I’m okay.  You’d be happy for me and proud.  It took ten years but I did it.  I might even be better than okay but I’m happy with okay for now.”

As If All Along

As If All Along

Suddenly, you are near me
and your hand is in mine

Your arms are around me
and I get lost in the mystery

Your voice speaks to me
and I am filled with wonder

As if all along,
this is what was meant to be

Suddenly, you look right at me
and I am overcome with joy

You don’t know what to say
but your eyes convey it all

You come close to me
and I can’t help but smile

As if all along,
this is what was meant to be

© 2017 SM Hannon