Note: The two poems included in this post are acrostic poems. An acrostic poem is a type of poetry where the first, last, or other letters in a line spell out a particular word or phrase. Both the end of the title and the completion of the last line of each of the poems in this post can be read vertically down the left side of the page.

The loss of a loved one can happen unexpectedly. So, how do you cope?

At some point in time, you have to move on. However, this may not be easy to do. But then the unexpected occurs again, as is seen in . . .

I Did Not Believe It Could Happen, But . . .

One night in early May, I sat on the couch thinking about what life would 

     be like if my husband, David, had not died in our car accident two   
     years ago.

Nobody would have predicted either one of us could have survived when the  
     Ford Explorer crossed the center divide and hit us head on.

Each of us was wearing a seatbelt, but as David lurched forward, the belt    
     snapped and wrapped around his neck, choking him to death.

Death changed my life in ways I had not expected, for I began to gain          
     confidence in myself and became stronger without David in the picture.

A great husband, lover, and friend, he also was a control freak, who paid all    
     the bills, invested our money, and made most of our major decisions.

Yet I loved him with all my heart and his loss drove me to distraction at        
     times, but also caused me to go back to college to finish the degree I had 
     put aside to get married.

Young, only thirty-three when I lost him, and without children, I had a long life 
     ahead of me, but how would I handle it alone?

Oh, I thought about trying to meet someone else, but it didn’t seem right to      
     be looking for a “David replacement,” at least not yet.

Under an overcast sky, I made my way through school, began to        
     understand my finances, and became involved in a women’s bridge club.

Working as a secretary in a local real estate agency, I kept to myself, did my  
     job, and left immediately when the clock struck five.

At night, I dabbled in the online classes I had enrolled in to finish my degree, 
     sat on the couch watching TV, and downed bucket after bucket of sweet 
     popcorn.

Life was full, but empty at the same time, and I had no clue how to live it      
     otherwise.

Keeping to myself had become a shield against an outside world that          
     sometimes frightened me, and meeting another man was out of the  
     question.

Each day I drifted more and more into my private space and, although        
     together with others at the office, I remained isolated and alone.

David, how could you do this to me? Why was I chosen to live and you to    
     die? Or maybe we both died that day on the freeway.

In my deepest moments of grief, I contemplated suicide, but deep down I     
     knew I did not want to take my own life.

No, that was not a viable alternative. But if not that, then what?

Tortured by the thought of spending the rest of my life alone, I tried to figure    
     out how to expose myself to the world outside.

One door had closed, but now I was ready to open another. Yet every time      
      I reached for the handle, I froze and could not do it.

Maybe I was meant to be alone. Could God have taken David from me to    
     punish me for the sins of my past?

Yes, that had to be it. But I knew in my heart, it was not. I was making          
     excuses for my weaknesses I had not been able to overcome.

Late in the day on Saturday, as I sat in my plush, brown recliner reading a       
     novel about an eighteenth century love affair, the doorbell rang.

I walked to the door and opened it. Standing before me was tall gentleman      
     with a beautiful smile on his face.

For a moment, I was caught off guard, but in his soft, soothing voice, he     
     introduced himself as my new neighbor.

Everything glowed. Warmth permeated my soul. I did not believe it could      
     happen, but . . .

Copyright © 2019 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

At times, achieving what we are capable of becoming can be an up hill battle. Yet it is one in which we must engage.

We must believe in ourselves. And, hopefully, we can enlist the support of others. This is the goal you will discover in . . .

If You Would . . .

Jumping out of bed that morning, I knew I had to do something—something    
     extraordinary.

Unless I acted now, I might never get another chance to be what I thought I     
     could be.

So I washed up, slipped into my gray striped suit, white shirt, and black tie   
     and headed toward the garage.

The shiny black BMW I bought with the money I inherited from my       
     grandfather reflected my image back at me.

But it did not look like the man I wished to be—one strong and confident in      
     facing the future.

Entering the car, I pressed the garage door button, buckled my seatbelt, and 
     prepared for a journey that both excited and frightened me.

Looking in the mirror, I again saw the likeness I did not want to see—one of     
     a young man going nowhere in life.

I could not accept this, as I had more to offer then just sitting back and         
     letting the days fly by without making something of myself.

Empowered by the thought of changing my life and doing something of       
     which I could be proud, I smiled.

Venturing into the unknown would not be an easy task, but I felt in my heart     
     I had the strength to do what needed to be done.

Either I do it now, or I might lose the opportunity to achieve in life what I        
     knew I could accomplish.

I am strong, although I had not always demonstrated this to myself or to      
     others out of fear of failure.

Not wanting to continue down this dark, winding road going nowhere, I        
     needed to change direction.

My mind made up, I now believed I was ready to face a new day and prove     
     to myself and others, I could be a success.

Entering the conference room where my interview would take place, I          
     muttered to myself, “I am your man, if you would . . .”

Copyright © 2019 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.