You’ve Been Given A Number

Posted by Jenn on April 17, 2012 at 11:25 AM

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You have been given a number:

don’t forget it, lose it, or give it away

You lose your “access to mental help”

with an emphasis on mental,

but you have to shake it off, along with the

other terms: meds, ding buiscuits, psycho,

your social security number-your medicaid card,

food stamp card-but everyone talks to you

like you have no brain in your head

no joy in your heart, no love to give.

you know which psychiatric units to avoid,

which ones treat you decent.

But your mama is by your side

the whole waywith every heartbreak, every disappointment

every trauma.

But you see the worry in her eyes, the fear in her heart.

You want to soothe her about what doesn’t make sense,

but how?  it doesn’t make sense to you.

You are not perfect-to any man, you

fear he sees damaged goods, and what you lost

You cannot get back.  You are so high, on top of the world

Looking down on creation, as the old song goes.

Then, the higher you go, the higher you soar….

The harder you crash. You sleep for days,

Again, you see the worry in your mama’s eyes

The fear in her heart.

How do you soothe what you don’t understand?

Note:  After about one year, I re-wrote this, a poem I call “Fear rushes In.”  Unlike Kathy and Shea, I found out what I have is PTSD/Panic Disorder-not in fact bipolar as originally thought.


When Fear Rushes In


Fear floods the human emotion,


The first thing we feel is a sinking feeling,

One that shows us our lives had moved in slow motion,
And for what leaves us reeling.
Is the One Moment that leaves us seeing
Just how Fragile life can be.


I wish often for many things,
The passage of time is not one.
It goes fast enough as we age and find we are
Not puppets on some string.
People, kids, and everything is about how far
We have come.


Some of us physically are in a backwards march.

Others, they are in a forward step.
What kind of walk we’re in depends on us,
The way we walk it us is how we’ve kept
Clean what is ours, and separate what isn’t ours
How far, how fast, we’ve lept
From one step to the next.


What we do with time is as important

As how we spend it.
And with whom we spend each minute we sit,
Being Complacent,
Is every bit as dangerous as others
Greed, lazy, and one of arrogance
is every bit the hazard as violence, perhaps more.

As how we speak words are as important

As the words themselves.

People remember what they will
And zero in on detail we don’t always draw

And are as selective as a kid is selective in hearing
When we break God’s law-
Fear should rush in.

Losing You

Posted by graceofmyheart on April 15, 2012 at 2:50 AM

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Everyone tells me that time will help heal the pain of losing you.  It is not true.  I only fall deeper and deeper into the loss of you and the pain does not fade.  Another day along this path does not help me feel the loss of having you  in my life.  That hole in my heart seems to just get bigger with each day.  Maybe there will come a time when I will only remember you with happiness, but not yet.

Every morning when I open my eyes, the first thing I know is that you are gone.  I cry and try to hold it together so that I can function in this world without you, but it is hard.  Every minute of every day is knowing you are not here.  I hear the phone ring and for a moment I think it is you, then I remember.  I have thoughts of calling you each time something happens in my life, then I remember.  I see your picture, then I remember.  I think of you and smile, then I remember.

I want to go on with life but it seems so hopeless.  I have others in my life but the whole of them do not make up for what I have lost.  Try to understand that I know you had to leave.  Life here on this earth was not good for you.  You stopped living a long time ago.  I know your life was empty and you felt the pain and struggle of each day.  I get all that but I am selfish and want you back.  Are you happy now?  Do you feel the love of those that have gone before you?  Are you with God’s angels?  Do they love and protect you or do you need any protection at all?  My faith in God tells me that you are okay.  That you are finally in the loving arms of our Christ and that things with you are finally okay.  But I am your mother and I feel the loss of you so much.

Shea, please find a way to let me know you are okay.  Let me see through my clouded eyes that you are doing good in a world that I cannot know anything about.  This is the first time we have ever been apart.  Some people call it co-dependent.  I call it love.

Too Beautiful a Soul-Caught in a Storm

Posted by graceofmyheart on March 31, 2012 at 2:05 AM

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I can see you were a woman, beautiful, but so fragile for a world where we can’t see an honest salesperson, a loving heart in a world where honesty where the forefathers of our country presumed it would always exist, a kind soul in an era where kindness is rewarded with a slap in the face.  I talk to your Mama every day almost, and I pray each time my phone rings it’s her, because I have been given the gift of a glimpse of you.  Her voice lifts when she talks of you, and even in your times of suffering–I won’t share what isn’t mine honey-because I aready know the hailstorm, or part of it, you had to have been through.

While most of this world speaks of times of suffering, they cannot imagine a lifetime of it, can they?  They can’t understand when you meet someone and invite them in-maybe let them sleep on your couch, you go to bed, and while you sleep, you are taken advantage of–not in that way: they steal what isn’t theirs to take.  Your cable TV bill shows up, and while you can barely remember what they look like, you remember how of all your cats-all of them slept in your room while you slumbered unknowingly.  Your bill is $120 more than normal, and not understanding why, you call the cable company, and your eyes drop to titles of movies you would never have ordered for the kinds of movies you have only heard about-your mama protected you from that.  But isn’t it horrible that the one thing a mother-no real mother would want for their child is pain.

But it’s the one thing no mama  can protect her baby from-whether she realizes it or not.  Every mother sees her child, and wants nothing but “Sugar and spice and everything nice,” while the world today sees sugar and spice as something to sell and the rest as a joke or something to laugh at.  But I hear the ache in your mother’s voice: a child like you can’t be replaced anymore than when a mother’s child takes her dead bird to her Daddy and asks him to make it sing again, he can’t do it either, as much as he wants to, because he sees his beautiful daughter, and wanting to protect her from the ultimate thief, he is always out there, isn’t he?  I know physical pain, I know what it’s like to try and keep it at bay with doctors, medicine, procedures and my kitty cats bring me my smiles…I had to learn to replace what I didn’t have  with what lay within me.

And even with having the same high, highs, riding that roller coaster, being in that constant amusement park, it faded for me, and I set a timer, and much as I detest them, I continue the medicine and once in a whie, I go to my doctor–or irony of ironies, we talk on Skype.  And a very few people I trust, that have proven they cann be-your Mama is one that I keep closest, and like that first pet you looked to daddy to fix, and to make sing-whose song had been silenced: your fragility came from somewhere.

Of Love

See, hon–

Not as hard as it looks–and this is beautiful for a trubute to Shea: goregous girl she is!  I don’t speak in the past tense because as she lives on in your heart and will be “The grace of my heart” that she will continue to live on.

Many love–I love you.  but no going through photos alone anymore.  Pete loves you too, and my guess?  He loves you so much; which proves why he gets upset he can;t fix it (Men are from Mars Women are from Venus?) and he couldn’t fix what her problems were, so he got frustrated; just don’t shut him completely out; meanwhile, we work together on your terms.

God loves you and your precious angel watches over every day!



Blessings to all who continue despite pain others may never know,


In loving memory of:

Jennifer Shea McGee  (September 1, 1974 to October 19, 2011)

After the storm comes a calm…..


February 16, 2012 at 3:55 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Shea, I have had the cable bills higher than my most manic high, but I guess having my mother as hard as cement, the one thing Amazon won’t sell, “because it’s too expensive to ship,” the CEO joked, and my father who was passed out reeking of a smell I hated as a child, but never noticed when I turned 21, I suppose that when I got the smell out of my system, and back to taking my medications, how they are supposed to be, I had to learn to shut out the two people who showed me the least when they shoud have been the two who showed me the most. But with as little heart I got from them, I hung onto it.  And yeah it’s rotten-of THEM, Shea.

The people who hurt you only are showing what rot is in their souls.  But your Mama is so kind, so loving, and giving of herself-she had her heart beating in your chest too.  And your daddy only wanted to protect his girls….  But that thief was waiting out there to steal what was not yet to be his, sometimes he does outwit God even and takes what belongs only to God.  And he steals what is most beautiful and pure in spirit.

That is why you may have suffered so, and at the one moment when in this dance of life–he stuck his hand in, and stole your mother’s heart.  It still beats, but to her, I know it feels empty.  But her heart is still alive–it is in her now, and I get up every day, hoping the phone to ring, that while we can’t find the missing part of her soul that dies with even the coldest heart when a mama loses her baby, one who created someone so beautiful, someone I think was TOO beautiful for this world–maybe that is why that bird your daddy couldn’t fix, will perhaps one day reawaken from such a long slumber, and learn to help us, in this storm of this first year, when your mama counts the seconds without you, she can  sing of her memories of you as the storm is finishhed, and the sun shines on her once again.  I wait every time we talk to heal the healing laughter, a belly laugh-so what if it takes a nasty letter to “Michelle Obama.”

Or a lift in her voice.  I know your daddy misses you too, and knows your fragile soul got caught in a storm that carried you up to the highest place anyone could go: to heaven with God.  Maybe now that bird you and he gave back to God, cuz she was “like most birds,” as a Daddy tells his precious baby, “They are on loan…birds are too fragile for this world.  Although missing their baby daughter so much, maybe together, they can have that bird will awaken, and  sing for her, I hope and pray to God she does (did you know, Shea, only a rare female bird carries such a beautiful song?)  Just a secret!!

I hope you can whisper in His ear to raise some sunshine in your Mama’s heart.  To warm her up, like a soft blanket,  You are the salt of God’s earth, Shea… someone who takes advantage of anyone, let alone someone who opens their door and says “I love you” or even “I trust you.”  Those have never proven, because they can’t.  You are what you came from: pure love.  That is so rare that so many don’t know what to do with it-but your mama did.  And so did your daddy too, I think.  But let’s raise some sun on your mama, but if the rest of the world did not know what to do with someone so pure at are and purely full of love, you had your mama.  I thank God for the calm.


Posted by graceofmyheart on February 21, 2012 at 7:45 AM

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February 21, 2012  Shea, it has been 4 months on the 19th since you left this earth.  I am thinking of you all day and night as usual.  Nothing happens in my world that does not remind me of you.  Your smiling face, your beautiful bright green eyes, perfectly arched, dark, eyebrows,gorgeous blonde waist length hair that framed your face so perfectly.  I think of you and I remember every detail of your face.  I practice remembering your beauty.  I never want to forget not one detail of how you looked.  You were my beauty, my love, my everything a mother could ever have wanted in a child.  I don’t deny that we had troubles in our lives together over time, but I never think of those times, never again.  I only remember the good because all of the bad has all been washed away with my tears.  I will always only remember the good because your heart was good.  You were gentle, kind, and loving.  You made me feel like I could be a better person because you were the goodness, the grace of my heart.

Remembering Jennifer Shea McGee