Rhythms: Before I forget…what it was like 

Credit: Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, Photographer

by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC, Contributing Editor


My story as a young girl,

a girl who didn’t know about life

 because no one ever told or showed me,

I had to learn by myself, 

to learn how to be happy,

how to be sad,

to learn it was ok

to be one or the other

or to be silent or to sing. 

I had to learn to say no,

Yes, hurt so many times,

And then I had to learn to say yes

because it was the right thing to do.

I must write my story,

and it may sting to write so much 

My life was filled with so much drama, and it was also filled with joy. 

the story is a long tale, of hardship and regret,

of loss and trauma,

of life and death

It’s a story that includes two little boys

that I brought into a world that I knew so little about.  

They are a big part of my life and my story

It’s all about survival and that’s so hard to write.

I have so many stories and there are many things

that I don’t talk about

because I don’t know how.

I do know what moved me,

I know what made me aware 

learning about serenity, from the wreckage of my past

If I put it down on paper, would anybody read it? 

Would anyone want to read it,

and maybe gain some awareness?

Would anyone understand?

If I were to take a good look at the implications

could they come to understand?

Could I teach someone about forgiveness

or how to love someone?   

How about learning how to trust. 

Twofold in nature, how to trust in oneself

by being true to our own integrity

and be willing, and to know that help is available

if we ask, and to understand that if we don’t seek help,

it may be because we don’t see it,

not that it is unavailable.

Before there’s no one left to tell,

can I write about responsible actions,

and gain focus on our lives?

Can I discuss breathing, or how to take a breath? 

That deep emotions tend to make us breathe differently,

So, concentrate on your breath……

or that growth is uncomfortable

and what isn’t growing is an unshakeable law of the Universe

that says what isn’t growing is dying? 

Can I write about grief?

Can I write before the leaves all fall…

and the winter snow is near?