
The Language of Us
Doris Falidis-Nickolas’ poetry beautifully captures love, loss, and remembrance, offering comfort to those navigating grief.
Passed away peacefully one year ago, today…
Trams retrace their now familiar steps along North Terrace – a witness, to the strangest of times. You would not believe the ways in which the world has changed, but – then again, given a lifelong intuitive ability I would imagine (as in life) you would rarely be surprised.
I recall an observation you once made (from the time Dad lost his Mum) – that something at the house had changed, despite everything having (visually) remained the same. The warmth that had always lived there (even in absence), was somehow gone – I know what you mean!
Mum, you were more than welcome to every one of my remaining days – I would have willingly given them to you. I know you would have made so much more of them.
With my words again of little consolation, I will instead (on this your first anniversary) borrow those once penned by Leo Marks (words you could proudly recite, at any given time throughout your life); made famous in service by another strong woman, Violette Szabo (whose story you also admired) as testament to a life well lived, in service (as in sacrifice) for the betterment of those around you.
Thank you for everything you continue to do for me – at times, despite myself. I love you…
Sean xo
“We miss you, Mum.”
Love…
Dukie and Jack!
xx
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours.
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause.
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
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