Sarah’s poem — I am still me

My young cancer-widowed friend, Sarah, let me read a couple of her poems recently. I was amazed. Beautiful stuff. She writes honestly and vulnerably as she wonders if she’ll ever find who she is again. And yet her work is hope-filled.



Jill Rosell Photography


Sarah says that for the longest time she had intended to write stories so she could remember, but the writing wouldn’t flow because she couldn’t recall all the details.


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Jill Rosell Photography


After much frustration, she started writing poetry. “This allowed me to capture a moment in time,” she said, “without the need for all the specific details.” Read it and be amazed with me.


My Grief Journey

1:08…Pushing the “no pain” button

1:18…Medication going in again

1:28…Keeping him comfortable

1:38…Fighting between  both worlds

1:48…Not wanting to concede

Chaplain giving a final prayer

I watch and wait

Wondering if this is real???


September 3, 2013, 1:58 pm

Surrounded by family and friends

Last breath taken—I can’t breathe

Time stood still; the fog rolls in

My grief journey begins.


The long lonely journey

Watching others continue

As if nothing had changed

Except for me, my life will never be the same

I wish people could understand this grief journey of mine.


Confused thoughts swirl in my head

Absence of concentration

Mixed-up words

Remember nothing

Forget everything

I wish people could understand this grief journey of mine.


On the outside, a fake smile

Makes others feel at ease

“Good” and “fine” are spoken without any meaning

No one to listen, no one to confide

I just need a hug and a friend

I wish others could understand this grief journey of mine.


Words to a song bring tears

A passing thought freezes me

A sight or smell recreates a memory

A smile appears on my face; not to last long

A reminder he is no longer here

I wish others could understand this grief journey of mine.


When the hands of time slow

Fog lifts and clears

A new world opens its arms

Waiting for me to join

I wish others could understand this grief journey of mine.


Small steps forward

Anxiety heightens

Gigantic step back

I am here somewhere

Will I ever find me again?

I question myself. Who am I?

As I travel through this grief journey of mine.


I have changed, yet I am still me.

I am the same, but different.

Yet, I am still me.

The grief journey continues…

I am still me.


My favorite line — if I had to pick just one — would be, “I have changed, yet I am still me.”

I think that’s how it is with all who have lost something of incredible value, whether health, a way of life, a loved one. We are the same person — same name, characteristics, interests and skills — but profoundly different because of what has transpired to leave un-eraseable tracks on our lives.

Sarah compares poetry to a black and white photograph: “Both have the ability to capture a moment in time.” Remembering. Reliving. Smiling. Crying. And moving forward with life.

Those of us who have lost … we’re still us. And even though it may seem as if all our hopes and dreams were buried with our loss, we’re invited to keep living and being who we are — pursuing those hopes and dreams. You are still you.

What do you need to pick up again because you are still you?

P.S. If you found this post hope-filled or encouraging, please share, tweet or pin!


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  1. KR

    Thanks, for sharing Sarah’s inspiring poem.
    We all have lost something and gone through grief.

  2. Jill Peters

    Thank you so much for providing a safe place for Sarah to share her beautiful words and feelings with us.

  3. I’ve always considered myself as being the adventurous type. So that’s why I know I’ll enjoy writing today’s adventure poem. I just need to figure out what to include in it. The amount of risk, no need for excessive. Like fighting with aligators, that are purely aggressive.

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