Another Imaginary Walk On The Sand By The Ocean…


Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee…. I loved doing this piece of artwork… I painted, cut out pieces of artwork I had already painted, drawn… put together.

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Another Imaginary Walk On The Sand By The Ocean…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/Aka Granny Gee

 

I walk in the soft sand, happy to be at the ocean

The wind blows my hair away from my face

Tendrils tickle my cheeks, I push them away

 

My long, flowing skirt billows out like a ship’s sail

Hugging my legs, defining their shape

Beautiful, soft, pink material caresses my skin

 

I close my eyes, inhale deeply… listen to the sounds of the sea

Sea gulls sing their songs…  the sound of waves join in

Making the most beautiful music to my ears

 

I stop to feel the wind blowing, play, tug at me

Sleep… how I would love to lay on a soft bed that sits on the sand

On white, silken sheets… fluffy pillows to lay my head on

 

I feel I could find peace of mind, my soul be soothed by

Sand, sea, songs sung by the sea gulls, blended waves…

I’m sad, I feel bittersweet… gray

 

My colors aren’t bright at the moment, I’m the color of sand

Blue as the sky… you know my son died on the beach

Listening to the sounds his mother hears on her walk

 

I wonder if he lay facing the sky as his spirit left his body

Looking past the sun to Heaven, with a far away look in his eyes

I don’t know this, I just try to ‘feel’ my son’s last moments

 

These are secret thoughts no one knows I think about

Thoughts I share with no one; thoughts that come to my mind

Thoughts that haunt, hurt me deep inside in a ‘deep-quiet’ way

 

I try to imagine his last moments as I take my imaginary walk by the sea

In my mind, I am walking, seeing a tall, muscular, handsome guy

He’s running, laughing with a little boy who looks just like him

 

I stop for a moment to watch… both are blonde-headed, blue-eyed

I reach out to touch them… they don’t know I’m there

They continue to run, play, squeal with delight, play by the ocean

 

I begin to walk, but… stop again, look back… I see the big guy

Has collapsed to the sand… I feel alarm as I watch, hear

The little guy say, ‘daddy, get up… come play with me’!

 

I walk closer to both of them… no one knows I’m there

I kneel there on the sand, lean over to look into my son’s face

Calling his name, trying to wake him up; he doesn’t hear me

 

I hold his head in my lap, my tears fall onto his face

I reach out, pull my little grandson close to me

I feel his fear of not knowing, understanding that something’s wrong

 

People appear, reach through me to speak to my son, shake him

Someone’s gentle hand reaches out to my grandson to comfort him

I stand to the side to watch… I’m not really here

 

I’m in my mind as I take my imaginary walk to that fateful day

The day my son died, my grandson lost his daddy… his life changed

I walked there trying to see my son’s last moments, as I’ve done so many times

 

My mind becomes so weary with the load of pain, grief I carry

In my mind, heart, a heavy load…  I imagine a bed with silken sheets

Sitting on the sand, big… fluffy pillows to lay my head on

 

As I end my imaginary walk, I am closing my eyes as my head snuggles into a pillow

Tears fall on the silken pillow case, feeling cool to my skin

I fall asleep to the music of the sea gulls, waves washing to shore

 

I imagine as I fall asleep, that my son’s death was as gentle as this

I imagine he didn’t feel any pain, felt at peace just as I do

Lying here on my bed by the sea, feeling the ocean breeze caress my skin

 

I’m too weary to cry anymore, tears still fall on their own

How many times have I been here to seek peace of mind

Going into myself, taking my imaginary walk by the ocean

 

Trying to see, sense… know that my son didn’t suffer

When his body collapsed, falling onto the sand

Please Lord, I hope he didn’t feel any pain… fear

 

Thank-you, for having your angels nearby to come, protect

The little boy who stood there, not knowing yet… his life changed

Forever… only knowing his daddy lay there, when he wanted him to play

 

My prayers for this little boy, my precious grandson

Is that he grows up knowing he was the apple of his daddy’s eye

No one could have been prouder of him… than his daddy was

 

Grow up, be ready for the world… he is someone special

I can see, sense it even now… big personality, confidence, laughter

Sense of humor in his eyes… that’s my son’s son… Big Daddy’s Boy

 

I’m going to close my eyes in my mind, I’ve completed once again

Another imaginary walk on the sand by the ocean, I’m so weary

I lay my head down on my fluffy pillow, I’ve found peace of mind

 

 

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Note:

 

 

So many times I do this… I used to cry all the time.  I’m too weary to cry now.  Tears fall, my sobs are silent now… I go to this place in my mind now… to seek peace of mind.

 

Even in my mind, in my imagination… I’m so weary that I imagine the bed on the sand, so… I can rest my mind, my body… my very soul.

 

Tommy… my son, died May 29, 2010… running, playing, laughing with his little 3 year old son… listening to sea gulls sing, the waves rushing up to the shore… at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

 

He was so happy to be at the beach to play for his first time with his little son.  The evening before, he stopped me as we were walking out of our home… he grinned, said… “Mama, I’m going to get to play with my son for the first time at the ocean!”  He barely made it there… just in time.  He safely arrived there… only to leave again on a… trip he can never come back from.

 

I never forgot that moment when he told me, his eyes sparkling with excitement…  I never forgot my son… I will always write to remember my only child, Tommy.  I hope you will remember him, too.

 

If you want me to remember your child, tell me… I won’t forget them.  If you want to tell me their name, date of birth, day they passed away… I will put them on my blog, to remember them always.  You might want to add one special thing about them.

 

Love, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

10 thoughts on “Another Imaginary Walk On The Sand By The Ocean…

  1. Hi Gloria! 🙂

    Thanks for the visit and comment! 🙂

    Yes, the package contains 12 copies of ‘Jabberweil Hunt’ and 12 copies of ‘Songs of Angels’.

    Five of each will go to my God daughter, her siblings and her mother, Pat: one pair will go to my friend Linda, one pair for mum, one pair to Kathy, one pair to Wayne, one pair to Rick and one pair to Lillian with the last pair to me!!! 🙂

    £85 is a lot of money when you don’t have much, but they are special gifts! 🙂

    It’s my birthday on July 6th and Pat’s on the 10th, so we’re going to celebrate at her place as usual and Pat will have Emily and my God daughter Becky there too, kids I looked after almost from birth! 🙂

    After 35 years of dedication I can relax and be so proud of them as they are wonderful women with children of their own and Becky is pregnant with child number four! 🙂

    Needless to day: ‘Jabberweil Hunt’ is dedicated to Becky and ‘Songs of Angels’ is dedicated to Emily! 🙂

    The weather here is pretty cold and wet: 13.2’C, 50% humidity, 986 millibars and windy with the rain coming in instalments when it comes down really heavy, so I’m glad I am due to go to bed as it is midnight here! 🙂

    Hope you have a peaceful night! 🙂

    Love and squishy hugs!

    Prenin.

    • Prenin, how so very Special this is. I look forward to hearing about your celebration of your birthdays. Happy Birthday in advance, Prenin. I hope with my very heart that it’s more Special than you could ever have thought it could be. Goodnight to you, and I hope you sleep well! Love Your Friend, Gloria

      • Thanks hun! 🙂

        I’ll just be glad to get through it without being set up again.

        Every time they put me through a set-up I come out cleaner than clean, but that isn’t what they want – so I’m laughing!!! 🙂

        Pat and I have been friends for 38 years and I looked after all her kids, Becky and Emily from birth, but my tormentors got their hooks into them 18 years ago and now every time we have a get-together it is used in an attempt to get me to do or say something wrong.

        17 years ago, as I had left psychiatric care to enter the ‘don’t care in the community’ system, they even used Becky as bait in a honey trap..

        They failed, naturally, so I came out it with clean hands, but now they have their hooks into the family so they use them again and again… 😦

        All I can do, damaged as I am from my experiences at their hands, is get by day by day and wait until I either die or they run out of money.

        Sometimes being pure of heart is the hardest thing to endure! 😦

        Love and hugs!

        Prenin.

  2. Hi Gloria!

    Just caught your comment and managed to erase my reply!!! (Oops!!!)

    Thanks for the kind words hun.

    I’ve suffered so much that every betrayal feels normal given that everyone they have used has some kind of criminal record, even though they may not have faced a court yet! 😦

    All I can do is get through each day at a time and occasionally give vent to my frustrations.

    I hurt, yet I do not die, despite all that they have done to me in an effort to gain dominion over me.

    I am not a monster it is true, but real monsters hunt me and cannot rest until they have power over me and so far they have failed every time for eighteen long years despite the support and efforts of people who were bought at £2,000 per head.

    Thanks hun.

    Yes, things will be all right one day I know, but it is a hard battle when I have nobody around me who hasn’t been bought and paid for.

    I forgive so often, but they just seem to see it as an excuse to do even more.

    Thanks for being my friends Gloria and Skip – that means a lot to me! 🙂

    Going off past experience I should be set up by Pat and the girls, but it will be for nothing and will just be another aborted attempt.

    Ironic: I looked after the girls all their lives yet it is them and their children that are being used as bait.

    They couldn’t be in safer hands… 😦

    I find it supremely ironic that I have a pristine, proven, record which the Police are happy with, yet I am being hunted by predators who have the worst of records…

    Love and hugs!

    Prenin.

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