Tag: Relationships

THE SADDEST OF ALL

by Shell DeToni, posted in Fiction, Poetry, PROFESSIONAL WRITING SERVICES, Rants & Raves

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IF ONLY

Preceding conduction or lack thereof,

same – same

Passions transpire deficient as derisions are made

A line in the sand,

crossed – always crossed

Like clepsydra’s,

occasion’s accidental loss

Fates appraised by temporal lengths of time

Some of which inundate sincerity with lies,

without diligent refined distillation

Wishes were assumed acceptable pecuniary consolations

An offer

Perhaps confirmation

The line in the sand remains – nonetheless

Absolution perceived by none brimmed with regrets

“If only I had known

If only I endured

Time wouldn’t have been stolen

If time understood”

~ Shell deToni

 

 

Dictionary.com  If only can be defined as “I wish that.” If only I had known you were coming, I would have met your plane.” This expression can also be one of wistful regret. “If only we had met 10 years ago.”

 

Children Coping With Grief

by Shell DeToni, posted in Non-fiction, Rants & Raves

 

“Life asked death, ‘Why do people love me but hate you?’ Death responded, ‘Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.”

—Author unknown

Death, the inevitable fate of all life.

Everyone manages grief in their own way. For a child, the devastation of such a catastrophic event can forever alter perceptions of their reality.

Children are so emotionally dependent upon those who are closest to them, it’s impossible to acknowledge life without those people. Yet acceptance is a fine line.

The younger the child, the easier it is to accept the loss. It isn’t that the child doesn’t care, it simply isn’t possible for those under the age of four to understand the concept of death. A toddlers’ reaction to the death of a loved one is based on his or her surroundings. Any changes within in a home with children are more complicated due to the disruption of their routine.

It’s important to keep your explanation simple, to the point. The dead aren’t hungry, cold, or tired. They are simply gone. If religion is part of your life, explain the passing like crossing a bridge or flying up to heaven. There isn’t a need to be dramatic or embellish. Answer questions the best you can, and remember the importance of being nonjudgmental. Your little one doesn’t have your life experience.

Older more mature children are likely to perceive death as it is; the permanent departure from who they love and care for.

It’s hard for them to muddle through the sorrow and pain. They become terrified of losing everyone and might attempt to withdraw or revert, becoming demanding and needy. Hold your ground and remain supportive by encouraging them to express their feelings. Help them develop healthy coping mechanisms to get them through their grieving process. Consider seeking professional help.

“The unmarred innocence of a child is a temporary veil of protection that every mother begs God to preserve, always”. ~Shell DeToni

Below is one of many letters written by a child searching for answers while trying to make sense of a life that had been turned upside down by the death of a loved one. She blames herself for how this tragic event has tore her family apart. The child’s lack of life experience simply makes it impossible for her to comprehend the simple fact that one cannot be held accountable for other people’s choices, nor is she responsible for those affected by the decisions other’s have.

It was her first experienced with death and while time has been kind, her lamentation has yet to be concluded. Perhaps someday, that blessing will be meant for her. Nonetheless, acceptance looms nearby.

 

Hi gramma. It’s been a year now since I’ve talked to you. I know you won’t reply back, but I just really miss you so I wanted to say I love you. Every day I’m gonna be silly and childish thinking that you will respond, but in fact, I know deep down inside, that you won’t. I just really miss you. I wish you could come back. Because you’re gone, dad is getting worse, and the family is also. I keep listening to songs that remind me of you. Music is the biggest escape in life. I’ve noticed that you don’t have any pictures of me. Sometimes I get mad at you because I make myself think that I’m not really important and I get really jealous of the other kids because you played with them more when in reality, they will hardly or not at all remember you and I will remember you forever. I get really upset with myself for being mad at you. I don’t like it when I am. I made a note for you. It’s only three words though. I didn’t give it to you because I forgot to. I’m such an idiot. I hate forgetting things. Because of my stupid head, I forget a lot of things. I forget the good times, but remember the bad. I miss you too much gramma. I want you back. If I could take every single one of my tears your loss has brought me, I bet I could build a staircase to heaven with them so I could see you. I wish I could come and see you. Or at least call you for one last time, so I could hear your voice and your laugh again. I know I’m not the most important person in your life but I still miss you and cry almost every night for you. I just love you so much. I’m even crying right now as I type this. I’m trying not to wake everyone up. I just really miss you. Sorry this note was so long. I just wanted to get my feelings out to you. Well, I love you and miss you. Bye.

Grief has bonded the child’s innocence to this moment forever, yet love will someday grant her serenity. Children are easily distracted and might show behavior suggesting they’ve moved on as if they have accepted the lessons of finality. Weather it be they forget or they move on, time truly is the magical remedy for grief.

Reflections From the Disheartened

by Shell DeToni, posted in Domestic Violence, Non-fiction

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There are moments in life that change you forever; define you, indefinitely.  Sure, wounds heal, but just as the old saying goes, “The scars remain.”

For some, the most definitive moment that has forever altered life’s reality is when the person they loved and trusted most unleashed their aggression and hit them. This life changing event is so horrible it turns air into acid, burning a hole in your chest. With each breath, the agony pierces and twists deeper until it devours you.

Survivors of violence can attest to how difficult it truly is to keep going after an incidence with their significant other. Your life is turned upside down and becomes chaotic. Feelings betray you, or at least that’s what you deem true. You start to second guess every decision you’ve ever made including the simple ones like dinner.

A mad rush of guilt veils and losses are mourned. The loss of your partner, your lover, your best friend, your self-esteem, and your sanity. Anxiety and at times, depression take hold and can paralyze. Loneliness consumes creating this frightened and fragile person.

Life is now a charade of a fake painted on smiles and counterfeit pleasantries that drain every ounce of energy you have. By the end of the day there is no strength left to fight off the demons that now own you. So the darkness is allowed to engulf the mind and leaves you desperate to find an escape, if only for a brief period.

You don’t dare cry out for help and certainly won’t let anyone learn the truth. Human connections are irrefutably out of the question. Your too damaged. Emotionally, mentally, and sometimes physically. Shame destroys any confidence as the value of your self-worth rapidly declines extinguishing any hope of recovery.

As time goes on, identity is lost as you are now defined as, “That person.”

The inevitability of seclusion becomes a life-preserver and you cling to it with relentless desperation. Solitude befriends in such weird and strange ways, yet offers no comfort or satisfaction, only thoughts of loss and despair.

It’s unknown how much time passes before the healing is acknowledged. The downward spiral is sporadic and irrational. Sometimes the screaming in your head drowns out the restoration, forbidding you to find peace. But it is there, somewhere. You must keep searching.

There are good days. You take them when the occasion allows it. At times, to your utmost surprise, genuine laughter escapes the lungs and bestows the air with the joyous sound you believed lost forever.

There are bad days. And they are just that, bad. Foolish choices will be made, baseless accusations will overflow, and unfounded self-torture will brand. These new wounds will create more scars. Try to use them as camouflage, hiding the carcasses of the demons that you battled.

Defined by an act based off someone else’s behavior is unjust and certainly not fare. Yet, there it is. However, accepting failure and giving up simply isn’t an option. Take the good with bad.  Learn from it and trudge on. The choices made by others that have affected your way of life are challenging to overcome. Just remember to breathe through the pain. Eventually, everything is going to be alright.

 

October is National Domestic Violence Month and I apologize for this being late. The month is dedicated to educate and help those who are facing the unimaginable. If you or someone you know is a victim, please call The National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.

SINS OF THE FATHER

by Shell DeToni, posted in Poetry

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Composed from the scandal of corrosive loins

Precious life is granted consciousness

New vivacity, supposedly unsoiled – so they say

Perfect and fresh

Given a century to sanctify their predecessor’s offenses  

Righteous

Clean

Then again, a soul created from the tainted has little chance

Bequeathed a life of struggle and inauspicious circumstances

Abandoned by the donor who calls himself father

Disgusting

Foul

A heartless egotistical degenerate who cares for nothing

For no one

Especially those left behind drowning in a wake of rejection

The sins of the father

Passed down generation after naïve generation

Paid in tears by progenies

Innocent

Children

Born blind, misplaced in an unforgiving world

Impossible to live the ordinary

Causality infects with destructive outcomes

Forsaken

Unloved

Vicious clichés a young child discounts

Yet, in time, anesthetized emotions secured inside a hardened heart

Held accountable to pay a debt tenfold, not of one’s own

But for the sake of genetic association

Sins

Of

A

father

 

FARSIGHTEDNESS

by Shell DeToni, posted in Dreams
Ballroom Dancing
Ballroom Dancing (Photo credit: Bella March)

 

Holding me with his strong arms, moving ever so gracefully across the dance floor. Knowing I have his undivided attention, I can feel him leaning in to smell my hair which pleases me.

I miss being held like this. A secure embrace taking the lead, compelling my body to move as he wishes. He’s proud to possess me and ready to prove I’m his; if not to the world, then to validate his dominance. Flaunting his prize, we twirl about as my dress brushes across my ankles.

I feel so elegant tonight.  A hand caresses my back as the other ever so lightly twists my hair through his fingers. The warmth of his breath on my neck brings about a ripple of desire that’s been long-lost. His lips barely touch my skin as he whispers,“You are beyond beautiful this evening.”

Passion engulfs all senses with the intensity of a violent eruption. Confounded by the torment of this man’s touch and the power he has over me.  I imagine all the ways I can seduce him. Imagining the taste of him, the feel of his body, and the smell of his sex. These thoughts break my concentration and I nearly stumble. However, I don’t falter. He retains control with a curious smirk and watches my expression for the faintest of hint that he’s won this game.

Breaking away from his mischievous gaze, I immediately perceive nearly everything is red; my dress, shoes, the dance floor, curtains, and the walls. All except him. My companion was entirely dressed in black. Odd, since obscurity is usually my doing.

The air is fragrant with a hint of honeysuckle and lilac. Scents that are crafted to spellbound and prime one’s senses for the sweetest of seductions. Especially for someone as beautiful as he. His flaxen hair, spirited golden eyes, and playful lips posing a sincere smile which markes him irresistible. Holding an air of arrogance, he parades me around the room with no effort what-so-ever as we dance the night away.

There are a lot of people here tonight, but no one I’m familiar with. My confidante seems to be acquainted with everyone. Tonight however, he doesn’t pay them any mind. His complete and total focus is solely on me. This exploit alone fashions wicked sensations confounded by emotions forcing me to believe as if we are the only two living soul left on this earth.

Mesmerized by the effects of this wondrous dream, the illusion befalls to an abrupt transformation. We suddenly are now sitting at a table in a café. We are carelessly laughing, but I cannot remember what is so funny. I feel as if we have always known each other and are best of friends. I cannot imagine life without him. There isn’t anything we would hide from one another, no judgement, only acceptance and adoration. We unequivocally love each other consumed by a peaceful bliss.

He sits there attentively listening to every word I ramble on about. What the chattering is in regards to, I do not recall. But there is a lot of laughter and it’s such a lovely warm day with the sky showing off its big white puffy clouds against the most magnificent blue canvas.

Then the alarm rings ending this perfect moment in time that isn’t meant for someone like me. The dream came upon its final conclusion and took with it my sliver of happiness with it. He’s gone and I don’t know how to get him back.