Back Away from the Brink

by Sandra Nelms-Ludwig

On May 26, 2006, a 22-year-old woman-child.
My daughter,
My only child
fell five stories off a balcony.
Splintering into broken nothingness,
nothingness wrapped in the permanence of death.
While the circumstances of me losing a child becomes my
personal heartbreaking story,
my loss reveals a sad universal truth.
Loss of treasured life,
marriage,
job,
goals,
one can fill in the blank with what one cherishes and find dearest.
Losses real or perceived
sprouting from whatever disheartening seed
leads one to the
BRINK.
The edge of existence where death is no longer an intruder,
not an interloper but a welcomed guest.
I hugged its comforting presence with remarkable sane relief.
How could I stop my skin,
my bones,
my muscles
my every fiber from constantly aching
without acknowledging the powerful respite
death may provide.
I don't remember most days after Ginia's death,
I recall burying her, but I cannot tell you much else.
It was ALL so opaque.
I sat on the edge of that chasm
her broken body fell into.
Day and night dreamed religiously of falling into its
security too.
My feet swung back and forth,
back and forth
over the jagged rim of here and unknown there.
Forward and backward, I swayed over an abyss
fully and comfortably dressed in only a suffocating
depressive cloak.
Depression is a naked truth that demands attention.
I didn't just want to die.
I needed to die.
I placed a welcome mat out for merciful death.
However, my dear friend Linda removed it.
Not once, not twice but repeatedly.
Thirty-two days and nights she cared for me.
Washed my face, wiped my tears.
Cooked meals and cheered when I ate
a fork or two of salad or mashed potatoes.
Who knew that one-day forks of food
would be an accomplishment for me.
I'm blessed I achieved it.
My beloved Linda backed me away
from the BRINK.
She insisted I ride at night in her Volvo
through my little town with the car windows down,
letting the wind blow against my uncombed hair
allowing my macabre grief twisted face to smell
the morning glory scents of promise.
Thirty-two days I was never left alone,
I was never left to my own desires.
She knew too well that was an unwise decision to make.
As strong as I may seem,
I am not inclined to endure as a norm any persistent
bullshit,
even if it pertains to my survival.
She was my saving grace.
My amazing grace. Amen.
She tethered me to better days to come that I could not
fathom
She loved me back where she wanted me to be.
She loved me back to me.
I saw I was worth keeping.
There is life beyond a horrific loss
Perhaps that is the understanding that those who push
through learn.
While the circumstances of me losing a child becomes
my personal
heartbreaking story,
my loss reveals a sad universal truth.
None of us escapes this experience called life.
All will glimpse the stark reality of the BRINK
and be forced to make the judgement
if backing away or NOT is what's best..

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When a parent loses a child a part of the family's future is lost. In my case with an only child ALL of a future is lost. A narrative free verse poem

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Poem written after the death of my only child.

Back Away from the Brink

by Sandra Nelms-Ludwig

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