Bernard Jan's Blog - Posts Tagged "loss"
Marcel: 13 Years Later
Thirteen is my lucky number. But not when it’s the number of the years I’ve been missing you. Not when I go through life without you. My brother, my friend, my everything.
My heart is full and empty, of memories and sadness. Despite losing you, I’m a rich man, thanks to you.
You are not here anymore but your monument is still standing. As long as I stand, and maybe even a little longer. Thanks to everyone who reads about you and loved you.
A World Without Color is your home now. This is where we live, love.
Thank you for everything.
My thoughts come rushing back like raging currents of mountain rivers that do not stop for anything or anyone. Hurrying with a roar to their finish line, completely self-sufficient. Each word I make immortal here must be engraved with the dedication of a blind stonemason who, just by sense of touch and guided by indestructible faith, creates from the shapeless mass a work which present generations, but also those who come after, will admire. Those who are alive today, and their children who are just born, setting the foundation for new generations. This is our written monument and I snuggle up against it, blinded by the pain inflicted upon me by every minute that takes us into the future. The future is what I want to avoid at any cost, selfishly keeping the present so these moments last as long as possible. Not thinking about you and the relief it will bring you. We are both on the road of no return. Do you think so too? Do you also feel at least a fraction of regret we will part soon, with no guarantee and no promise that, in the blink of an eye or the distant future, we might meet each other again? Tell me, dearest....
In Memoriam
Marcel
April 19, 2006 – April 19, 2019
Please read our story on Amazon.
BJ
www.bernardjan.com
Bernard Jan
My heart is full and empty, of memories and sadness. Despite losing you, I’m a rich man, thanks to you.
You are not here anymore but your monument is still standing. As long as I stand, and maybe even a little longer. Thanks to everyone who reads about you and loved you.
A World Without Color is your home now. This is where we live, love.
Thank you for everything.
My thoughts come rushing back like raging currents of mountain rivers that do not stop for anything or anyone. Hurrying with a roar to their finish line, completely self-sufficient. Each word I make immortal here must be engraved with the dedication of a blind stonemason who, just by sense of touch and guided by indestructible faith, creates from the shapeless mass a work which present generations, but also those who come after, will admire. Those who are alive today, and their children who are just born, setting the foundation for new generations. This is our written monument and I snuggle up against it, blinded by the pain inflicted upon me by every minute that takes us into the future. The future is what I want to avoid at any cost, selfishly keeping the present so these moments last as long as possible. Not thinking about you and the relief it will bring you. We are both on the road of no return. Do you think so too? Do you also feel at least a fraction of regret we will part soon, with no guarantee and no promise that, in the blink of an eye or the distant future, we might meet each other again? Tell me, dearest....
In Memoriam
Marcel
April 19, 2006 – April 19, 2019
Please read our story on Amazon.
BJ
www.bernardjan.com
Bernard Jan
14 Years Since You’ve Been Gone
I still remember you. And the day we parted. I will never forget the moment my heart turned into ashes.
And the pain. And agony. And sorrow for the days we won’t share, ever again.
It’s painful to even think about it. But it’s a comfort knowing we had each other. And love we shared that I still feel for you.
You spread love and good vibrations wherever you appear as you have all these fourteen years and nine months. I don’t know about you, but if someone gives us as much time as a gift, it won’t be enough for me. On second thoughts, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Thanks to you I could survive the dementia, illness and death of my grandmother, who vegetated for years before she found her deserved peace. Thanks to you I managed to cope every day with atrocious images of animals raised and slaughtered for human consumption, massacred in laboratory experiments, skinned for their fur... or those unwanted and discarded before they were run over on the roads. You were one of them too—discarded. Unwanted. One of those sentenced to death immediately after birth. Luck has smiled on you in the end. If I’m to be honest, luck favored us. Many times I thought: if it wasn’t for you, this family might have already gone to hell. But you keep us together. As the gravity of the home planet holds its satellites, not allowing them to wander into the universe of the unknown.
I hope many of my readers and fans will read your story. Because you deserve it. Because your life was not in vain, you were the best gift I could have hoped for from this life.
Thank you for everything.
In Memoriam
Marcel
April 19, 2006–April 19, 2020
A World Without Color, the true story of the last three days we spent together, is still on Amazon as an eBook and paperback. Waiting for the world to know about you.
BJ
www.bernardjan.com
Follow me on Twitter.
Bernard Jan
And the pain. And agony. And sorrow for the days we won’t share, ever again.
It’s painful to even think about it. But it’s a comfort knowing we had each other. And love we shared that I still feel for you.
You spread love and good vibrations wherever you appear as you have all these fourteen years and nine months. I don’t know about you, but if someone gives us as much time as a gift, it won’t be enough for me. On second thoughts, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Thanks to you I could survive the dementia, illness and death of my grandmother, who vegetated for years before she found her deserved peace. Thanks to you I managed to cope every day with atrocious images of animals raised and slaughtered for human consumption, massacred in laboratory experiments, skinned for their fur... or those unwanted and discarded before they were run over on the roads. You were one of them too—discarded. Unwanted. One of those sentenced to death immediately after birth. Luck has smiled on you in the end. If I’m to be honest, luck favored us. Many times I thought: if it wasn’t for you, this family might have already gone to hell. But you keep us together. As the gravity of the home planet holds its satellites, not allowing them to wander into the universe of the unknown.
I hope many of my readers and fans will read your story. Because you deserve it. Because your life was not in vain, you were the best gift I could have hoped for from this life.
Thank you for everything.
In Memoriam
Marcel
April 19, 2006–April 19, 2020
A World Without Color, the true story of the last three days we spent together, is still on Amazon as an eBook and paperback. Waiting for the world to know about you.
BJ
www.bernardjan.com
Follow me on Twitter.
Bernard Jan
