I know you think you listen to me and yes, yes, before you say anything,
I know you’re much better at it than you used to be.
And I thank you for that.
Listen to me.
Listen.
I am your compass.
I am your guide.
I hold your love.
I hold his love.
I am love.
I hold pain.
I hold grief.
I hold joy.
I hold magic.
I hold the stars and
the moon and
the clouds you watch endlessly.
You feel me pound when you see a wide open sky with clouds that speak to you, that speak to me, that let us know we’re so much more than this.
Listen to me.
Listen.
I know you think I’ve betrayed you at times.
I hold all of everything you’ve ever experienced.
I held you when you were on your knees, when you were curled up tight like a ball, when the pain was so intense you couldn’t breathe, those sharp slicing shears of sorrow that felt like I’d been ripped to shreds.
Your heart was shattered you said, you felt your heart had been ripped out.
You feel me pounding hard now.
Listen to me.
Listen.
It felt that way, but know this – I would never leave you.
Yes, I may have been shredded, but the core of me, the essence, the love that never leaves, was always there.
I did not retreat. I did not abandon you. You felt me pounding so hard in your chest then.
I held you. I held you. I held it all for you.
All of you I held behind secret doors and chambers,
safeguarding for the time when you needed a sip of
sweetness, a drop of delight, when your eyes cleared and you could see again, hear again, feel again.
Listen to me.
Listen.
Thu-thump. Thu-thump.
You think you have to always protect me.
I am far stronger than you know.
Yes, I heard what you were thinking just now, listening to my sound, thu-thump thu-thump.
You thought of Jim and your dad and how their hearts failed them, sharply, swiftly, defiantly, and then, in turn, you.
The sound of the heart just goes somewhere.
It went with them.
Yes, I know those times you felt I became a dried piece of leather, squeezed dry from all the tears. Honey, I held that space for you. I gave you the room for all those tears and all of those thoughts and all the times you felt grief pounding inside your chest.
The heart of a human is just a muscle – they say.
Listen to me. Listen.
I am here to tell you the heart holds all that makes you human.
And when a man’s heart fails so suddenly, with no warning, when souls fly away, well – I can’t tell you why that is now.
But one day you will understand, you will know,
and you will smile and say to me, oh so that’s it, is it?
Listen to me.
Listen.
Do you feel me pounding now?
Keep listening to me as you’re learning to do.
If you listen to me I’ll never lead you astray.
I’ll always lead you to where you’re meant to be.
Trust in me. I am your compass. I am your guide.
I am love.
Feel me pound.
This was written in an online writer’s group called Writing at Red Lights, hosted by the amazing and gifted Laura Lentz. Laura has taught me the power of writing in the healing process.
Debbie Augenthaler, LMHC, NCC, is an author and psychotherapist in private practice in New York City, where she specializes in trauma, grief and loss. Her award-winning book, You Are Not Alone: A Heartfelt Guide for Grief, Healing, and Hope combines her personal story of devastating loss with practical insights and simple suggestions for healing. Join her Facebook community, Grief to Gratitude, and follow her on Instagram.
