Friday, February 20, 2009

The Shopping Trip by Linda Vicory

As I persue the aisles,
of the local store,
I see things more differently,
than I ever have before.

"Daddy's Little Angel",
the embroidered bibs do read.
But, Daddy's angel is in Heaven,
and bibs she does not need.

She does not need a bottle,
a dress or a toy.
Of buying those things for her,
we shall never know the joy.

There are tiny jars of baby food,
that she will never eat,
And shiny shoes with buckles,
that will never touch her feet.

As the bikes and trikes taunt me,
from high up on the rack,
Tears will break free from my eyes,
if I dare look back.

I run off to the restroom,
to blow my nose and cry.
I wipe my eyes, swallow hard,
and let out a sigh.

I must go face the paper,
college and wide rule,
That my little angel,
will never use in school.

I hurry past the greeting cards,
that the people chose with care,
And I am reminded,
of the holidays we shall not share.

In the checkout line I bow my head,
and heavy is my heart,
For the family right in front of me,
has a newborn in their cart.

Shopping in the local store,
used to be mundane.
Now every aisle's full of items,
which remind me of my pain.

So, quick as I can, I give the cashier,
the money from my purse,
And hurry away from those who don't know my pain,
in this foreignly happy universe.

This poem hit hard with me because it is so true. Everywhere I look I see things I wanted for Drayke. I found myself bursting out in tears looking at a lamp at Walmart knowing how cute it would be in his room. The cute stuffed dragon at Cracker Barrel. The Spyro video game daddy was so looking forward to having Drayke on his lap as he played the game for him. People say take down the nursery so you aren't reminded all the time of your loss. It would make no difference. I am reminded everytime I drive by a park, a school, go into a store or watch a movie. I look into my rear view mirror and don't see the car seat that is supposed to be there. I see how I wanted my son in every aspect in my life and am always reminded he is not here with me.


ski said...

I want to share with you something I found on a friends blog. She and I both lost little ones about 10 yrs ago and this hit me rather hard. i do not share this to cause you ANY pain, but you let you know youre not alone. There are many of us out there walking in those ugly shoes. You and your family are in my thoughts.

What an odd title! I'm going to share something I found traveling the internet. Even though I'm coming up on 10 years since my loss, sometimes it seems like hardly any time has passed. I'm not strong enough to let my feelings show, so I walk around every day pretending that everything is alright.

"An Ugly Pair of Shoes"
I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable Shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only other one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by
before they think of how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger women.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
Author Unknown

Drayke's Mom said...

Ski, thank you. That was beautiful.