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Jamie Dedes, the poet…

Died the Friday before last. I have been upset, although I did not know her in person, we communicated enough for me to know that she was a generous, kind and beautiful person. A wonderful poet.

Here is just one of her poems. She was waiting for a heart and lung transplant, and she continued to be all the great qualities.

One Lifetime After Another

one day, you’ll see, i’ll come back to hobnob
with ravens, to fly with the crows at the moment
of apple blossoms and the scent of magnolia ~
look for me winging among the white geese
in their practical formation, migrating to be here,
to keep house for you by the river …

i’ll be home in time for the bees in their slow heavy
search for nectar, when the grass unfurls, nib tipped ~
you’ll sense me as soft and fresh as a rose,
as gentle as a breeze of butterfly wings . . .

i’ll return to honor daisies in the depths of innocence,
i’ll be the raindrops rising dew-like on your brow ~
you’ll see me sliding happy down a comely jacaranda,
as feral as the wind circling the crape myrtle, you’ll
find me waiting, a small gray dove in the dovecot,
loving you, one lifetime after another.

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I am terrified…

The pain in my hip has returned. It is no longer a biting pain that come and goes when I meditate on it. It is pain that brings tears and travels down my leg. Yesterday I prepared no food. I drank the protein drink that I use to minimise carbohydrates in my diet.

When I stand, the pain is terrible and I stagger until my leg obeys my brain and then I walk awkwardly with pain at each step.

This started at the end of last week. It went away, and only niggled. On Monday, when I helped the young woman, I was not aware of it and it was not until Thursday that I felt a need to do something, by my surgery was closed. On Friday it was much better but now I am so scared.

I had my first hair appointment today. I was really worried about how I would cope. I didn’t cope well. I literally hobbled in and to the sink and back to the chair.

The mirrors make me hate myself. I get by in life by not seeing what I look like. I came away ready to crawl into a hole, except my hair looks great.

The nerves down my leg hurt most of the time. My hip at times hurts just motionless, and as I type. Part of me wants to fall so that an ambulance will come. Initiating anything medical or surgical terrifies me.

There are so many times I wish I had died when I had my brain surgeries. I hate my body. Although it was not as bad as it is now, I have never had the joy of a beautiful body. Tall, slim, and athletic. Wearing anything I wanted to.

I want my Dad. I want him to cuddle me.

In the salon, The Scientist by Coldplay came on and I feel so relieved that Mike chose to reject me. Who would want me. And yet I long to to have a hand to hold in the night.

Why is life so cruel? Oh God that I have loved and served, why is this happening to me?

Haven’t I suffered enough? Is there no end?

I am terrified and don’t want to give up my home and garden.