Notes from the Lost and Found Standard Share this:TwitterFacebookEmailMoreRedditLike this:Like Loading... Related
22 thoughts on “Notes from the Lost and Found”
What an apt picture, as my heart is torn, shredded and crushed at these words and what they represent in the heart of a child.
I think there is pain on both sides of the equation. The child just doesn’t have anywhere else to go for affirmation.
The feeling of not being wanted as a child was terrifying. Identity lost, retreating into silence and imaginary parallels. YS, how do you resolve that as an adult? Can it be resolved? Thank you again for your words.
I think people deal with it in different ways. My deepest healing came when I reconciled with my mother. I had to accept the pain that I carried; once I did, it lost its power.
There’s not many babies that leave the womb without a good cry, nor many children who leave their parent’s home without some complaints… you portray the heartbreak here… and I remember my own… probably a lot of others will too. That’s one of the risks of art; all the more so now, with talkbacks… there’ll be a lot of crying in blogland tonight…
I like how you put it, ShimonZ. That first cry is just the first of many.
Way to turn a cliché into a poem, my friend! Very moving.
Thank you, RAB.
Amazing. I love that this is an image! Fantastic post.
I’m glad you like it.
Very much so.
Thank you, JAA.
Sweet blessings on you.
Thank you so much.
This describes so many kids that I see each day. Very poignant way to describe this.
Thanks for reading, chlost.
I’ve been out of commision for a while and just now getting caught up on your blog. You still make me cry from the sadness in your heart, but you make me laugh even more from the depth of joy in your heart. Of all the blogs I read, yours is my favourite. i wanted to tell you that.
Thanks so much for reading, Pat. I’m so glad that you like my blog. Truly.
Sometimes your words leave me in stitches, sometimes they leave me heartbroken. Today it is the latter…. =(
I appreciate that you read what I write, Marie.