{"id":4423,"date":"2026-05-17T12:10:50","date_gmt":"2026-05-17T18:10:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/?p=4423"},"modified":"2026-05-17T12:10:50","modified_gmt":"2026-05-17T18:10:50","slug":"crushed-by-the-fear-of-what-is-true","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/2026\/05\/17\/crushed-by-the-fear-of-what-is-true\/","title":{"rendered":"crushed by the fear of what is true"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I was going to call you that day, but I thought I\u2019d do it later
\nNighttime was always the best time to catch you as you rested from the day
\nAs it turns out, when I thought to call, the smashing had already begun<\/p>\n

Mangled front end, engine tossed to the other side of the road
\nairbags deployed, extrication necessary
\n\u201cyou did a bang up job,\u201d you\u2019d say if it happened to me
\nbut I couldn\u2019t muster any words, all I saw was my shattered mom in a coma<\/p>\n

The next morning, David went to see you
\nYou said you had an accident in a sarcastic way
\nhe knew then it probably wasn\u2019t true
\nBy the time I saw you in person four days later, your eyes were closed
\nwrists smashed, bones pulverized<\/p>\n

Every time I saw you after you woke up
\nit seemed like you were trying to tell me something, but didn\u2019t know how
\nI know you never wanted to be alone, but that wasn\u2019t it
\nYou didn\u2019t want to stay, but you didn\u2019t want us to go
\nAnd I suspected, too<\/p>\n

The shell of a mother, lies motionless in a dirty care home bed
\nyour soul might be in there somewhere, but your eyes have clearly given up
\nthey speak louder than words ever could
\nno one wants to hear the truth of how we arrived here this day
\nyour thoughts are broken, and like your limbs, they might never be healed<\/p>\n

Her home could never be cleaned of all the lonely shadows
\nthe pain is evident, in the one spot where she stayed
\nthe last months of her life before the \u201caccident\u201d
\na blue rocking chair, surrounded by empty take-out bags and Styrofoam tea cups,
\nand the low sounds of the TV to block the reality that she had no one left to care for<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t hear your soul when you told me you couldn\u2019t live there anymore
\nyou didn\u2019t know what to do if he couldn\u2019t come home and you were left alone
\nThe words meant something else and I tried to soothe your pain and comfort your tears
\nDid you feel there was no one left to care for<\/p>\n

David and I are all grown up now
\ndid you think we still didn\u2019t need you<\/p>\n

The days slide by, but the words get stuck
\nthere\u2019s no one to ask, no one to answer
\nwhy did you leave your teeth at home
\ndid you know you would not need them anymore<\/p>\n

Why were you on that road
\nWhat was your purpose that day
\nThat road didn\u2019t lead to any of your destinations
\nexcept maybe it did<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know what was on your mind
\nas you climbed behind the wheel
\nno one does but you
\nyou\u2019re not here to explain it to us
\nbut David and I know
\nwe will never understand
\neven though we do<\/p>\n

Was the world too weary for you
\nDid you think this was your only escape
\nYou tried to take care of things yourself
\nlike you always did for everyone else
\nyou tried to do it all alone
\nbut I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll ever truly understand<\/p>\n

The last day I saw you, you were not awake
\ncardiac arrest had taken its toll and there wasn\u2019t much time left
\nit\u2019s a hard way to go, respite care never came
\nyou were all alone when you departed, your greatest fear come true
\nThere were no last embraces, no touches of the hand, no kisses goodbye
\nonly a simple slipping of a lonely mortal coil<\/p>\n

Now I understand what you were trying to say on the phone
\nbut you could never muster the words
\nlife was always innuendo with you when it came to the hard stuff
\nWe listened, but, this time, we did not comprehend
\nand we missed all the signs<\/p>\n

The house is silent, only remnants of who you were
\nwe are overwhelmed by the darkness which overcame you
\nas your cries were never heard, but I never heard you cry before<\/p>\n

I won\u2019t go back home again, there\u2019s nothing left for me there
\nI\u2019ve taken all the memories and carry them as best as I can<\/p>\n

Even though you\u2019re not here, I know it doesn\u2019t mean you didn\u2019t love us any less
\nI\u2019ll keep you in my heart, I\u2019ll hold you in my thoughts
\nremember your voice and the kindness you gave to others<\/p>\n

I freeze the happy moments in my mind, for just a little while
\nthey slip through my fingers as I desperately try to document
\na life worth living<\/p>\n

We never got to say goodbye
\nyou slipped away while we were gone
\nno final embrace, no tears of sorrow
\nonly silence, except the long beep of a flatline<\/p>\n

We\u2019re not okay, we\u2019re not all right
\nthe only constant is the unfairness of life
\nthese memories cut through my soul
\nyou were lonely and felt forgotten
\nI carry the knowledge these feelings, too, will one day come my way<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[112,417,257],"class_list":["post-4423","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-death","tag-mom","tag-new-york"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4423","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4423"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4423\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4424,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4423\/revisions\/4424"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4423"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4423"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4423"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}