The Price Of Love

 This poem was written during a time of grief for Richard, a great friend.  As he told me of  Diana's last days in hospice after a long battle with cancer, I imagined what those moments might be like. The love devotion and dedication that they shared can only be a gift from God.  As it is near the anniversary of Diana's  death, The grief remains but the love and hope and celebration of her faith and courage shines through.  



The Price of Love                                        Stephen J. Jeffries

My head cradled on her breast,

trying to sleep with one eye open,

                                     one closed.

I felt every labored breath

as she struggled to hang on

one more hour,

              one more second..

I told her it was ok to go,

                        ok to reach up to heaven

                                                          and touch the hand of God.

But I lied,

                                                                                     it was not ok.

It took every fiber of my being to even think of her not being in my life.

Memories kept flooding my eyes and filling them with tears.

Tears of joy for all the living we shared.

All the moments that now can not be taken from us.

Lying on the beach with nothing

                              but our passion to shield us from the brilliant sunlight.
We became one, ...........one in love........... and one in God.

Our love and our loving was quickly followed by our children.

One by one becoming the

                                  building blocks of our family,

cementing our love for each other and for those little people that

                                                                             God blessed us with.

As legacy's go, they will live on to be her legacy,

                                                                a gift left to the world.

                  An inheritance worth more that gold and jewels.

Each will testify with their life and courage of the woman that they called Mom.

                 Each will stand tall and give support to me

                                             and to each other because that is who they are.

I can not promise

that I will ever quit grieving for the love of my life,

                              but...... the day will come when I will hear her small voice

insisting that I move on

                                                                                   and get on with it.

Until than I will unfold the memories

                                    and celebrate the living and loving that we shared

and try to give back the courage and

                                                the loving heart that filled her breast

and surrounded her life and spilled over into mine

                                                                 and to those that knew her.

Grief never ends....but changes with time.

                                                          Grief is a passage,
not a place to build a home.


Grief is not a sign of weakness,

                                           not a lack of faith.

                                                                        Grief is the price of love.