What do you see # 32- 1st June 2020

Written for Sadje: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2020/06/01/what-do-you-see-32-1st-june-2020/


Veva sat with the photos in front of her. It had been in Paris that she met Sal. He was a student, studying international affairs and she also a student, studying law. They had bumped into each other in the bookstore of university and it was love at first sight. From that moment on they had been inseparable. It had been in Rome that he proposed. As a couple they had planned a vacation full of sight-seeing and local adventures.  She would always remember that day, Sal on one knee in the center of the Colosseum with a ring in his hand. The crowds had cheered as if Sal had just won a victory. After graduation they had headed into Manhattan to be closer to Sal’s family in Queens and Brooklyn. Veva was able to visit family in Oregon often and there were no problems for this happy couple. 50 years later, Veva sat alone, pictures, the camera, the love, but alone. A tear fell from her cheek and landed on the photo of Paris, as if knowing this was where it all began, and it was worthy of her tears.  

©2020  CBialczak Fiction

Admitted 730 days ago

Dedicated to Bob, who will always be remembered. Also dedicated to David for his love and support and to Lindsay, my daughter, my best friend, my joy, for being so strong.

Two years later it still comes to mind 
how I felt on that fateful day. 

People I knew were so very kind 
but no one knew how it would play. 

And now that day is gone for so long 
but memories stay and will last. 

I still think the doctors had it all wrong 
about why my dear husband passed.  

So now I have the support of my friend 
who also became my love 

My pain and sorrow will never end 
But I know he is watching from above.  

©2020 CBialczak Poetry

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Cherish” – May 18, 2020

For Eugi: https://amanpan.com/2020/05/18/eugis-weekly-prompt-cherish-may-18-2020/

What I cherish

I cherish the land and I cherish the sea 
I cherish my solitude and also the “we” 

I think I am lucky  to have so much joy 
The worst thing for me was losing my boy. 

But life must go on and so I will try 
to be grateful for everything that’s passing by.  

©2020 CBialczak Poetry

WHITTLED WORDS – REVERSE POEM Posted by Brad Osborne on May 15, 2020

Reverse poems are written to be read top to bottom, and conversely, to be read bottom to top. When read in reverse, the poem should elicit a reversal of the tone and sentiment that is given reading it forward. Some incorrectly refer to this as “mirror” poetry, but that is an entirely different form, which we will address at some point in this series, hopefully. https://commonsensiblyspeaking.wordpress.com/2020/05/15/whittled-words-reverse-poem/comment-page-1/?unapproved=4605&moderation-hash=380f46b74fafb8f2f74d22b65f51c0c2#comment-4605

Ode to mourning

All your days can still shine bright 

Despite the showers that rage 

And the storm that you feel is real 

Your loss is forever. 

Give in to your feelings 

Mourn the dead as you have praised the living. 

Light may shine another day. 

Gray clouds will cover you  

Let yourself feel the pain 

Grief will eat you 

Tend to your inner self 

Do not pretend it hurts no more 

This feeling is incomprehensible 

It buries you. 

It clouds the sun.  

©2020  CBialczak Poetry

Legacy: Fowc with Fandango

For: https://fivedotoh.com/2020/05/14/fowc-with-fandango-legacy/

After my son passed away I was devastated. I had just (13 months prior) lost my husband now my son! The mourning process has been so much different than it was for Bob. It seems to be much more painful and I sometimes don’t know how I will ever feel better. July will be one year since he passed.

One of the things I learned as I watched a great webinar on grieving https://youtu.be/d5lYBsuqkxI was that instead of being so sad about his death, to think about the legacy I want to leave for him. It seems like this would be obvious or what you would do anyhow but when you think about it, what do you want people to remember about the loved one that died.

For Joey, he was so smart. He got a perfect score of 800 on Math SATs. Still in high school he took a college level Differentials math class and the professor said she learned things from him! No one could ever believe how smart he was. He was funny too. He had his issues and went through some extremely tough times as an adolescent but he had just graduated high school and I saw a whole new world opening up for him.

After Bob, my husband/his dad, died, Joey insisted on buying a motorcycle. He and Bob had talked about it often as Bob used to ride. I was scared to death and at the time didn’t know what I would do financially, so I told him if he was going to buy it he would have to save and do all the work on his own. Well, he saved $8000 in cash, got his motorcycle license, took the appropriate class and bought the motorcycle. He loved that bike.

He died on that bike.

My heart will never be the same.

The legacy I want to leave is how brilliant he was and how the world is now going to miss out of someone that would’ve changed our world. Someday, once all this corona stuff is over I want to try and start a scholarship at his magnet high school, under his name. That will be very fulfilling.

Daily QUote

The course of true love never did run smooth

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Who were the best lovers in all of the world, in all time?

What did Shakespeare experience to know that love is a rough road?

Where did Shakespeare get all his ideas?

When does love run smoothly?

Why is Shakespeare considered such a fabulous writer?

How do we know what true love is?

Desolate: Weekend challenge

Desolate:Uninhabited or giving the impression of bleak emptiness. https://weeklyprompts.com/2020/04/25/weekend-challenge-desolate

My desolate life

I stand alone 
as I have no one to stand with. 
I walk alone 
as I have no one to walk with. 
I sleep alone  
as I have no one to sleep with. 

Oh, desolate life,  
provide me the companionship 
I seek 
and the comradery I deserve.  

Do not feel sorrow for my loneliness. 
Do not feel pain for my hopelessness.  
Do not feel anguish for my desperation.  

My desolate life is my  
partner, and  

©2020 CBialczak Poetry


THe Sunday whirl: Wordle #452

fire, tiny, dream, mourn, torn, lift, shy, shock, lock, truth, light, stories. https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/24010414/posts/2345

A true story of grief: the sunday Wordle

Disclaimer: This is a true story. It is written with all my heart. It isn’t a happy tale, but it is my life.  

You hear stories about it, about the horror of having State Troopers come to your door at night. “Are you Mrs. Bialczak?” “Yes” “Is Joseph Bialczak your son?” “Oh God! NO!” “There was an accident….” 

The shock that comes immediately following is strange. I didn’t cry right away. I ran upstairs to tell Lindsay that her brother died. I yelled to David. It was like a bad dream coming true. You feel as though your heart is being torn out of your body.  

Only thirteen months before it wasn’t the State Police, it was the surgeon. “Mrs. Bialczak?” “Yes, is Bob out of surgery?” “I’m sorry to tell you this…”  

Why do I write about this truth when I should be writing a fictional tale? Why not write a light-hearted story of love? I think some of it is to release the feelings of sorrow that I lock up on a daily basis, just to survive. I am not too shy to tell the truth. I suppose my ability to mourn may help lift someone else up from a dark place, realizing they are not alone. It is a tiny piece of a huge picture that I sometimes need to share.  

As I sit and write this, there is a fire that burns deep inside of me, a fire so hot I don’t think anyone or anything could ever put out. Too often though, it is too hard to talk about. But, the more I keep it in, the bigger it grows.  

When something tragic happens and the world moves on around you, it hurts. The one thing I have learned though is that people are willing to listen, most often times they are just unsure or afraid of how to bring it up. I have learned that it is okay to bring this up when I need to because it is my truth and the life I live. I don’t need to spread sorrow, so as to feel so not alone, rather I need to spread the truth so others can begin to heal which in turn is helping me to heal. 

Thank you to all of my WP community for being so supportive.  


Written for Vintage Point: https://jamiededes.com/2020/04/15/vintage-point-a-poem-and-your-next-wednesday-writing-prompt/

This week we focus on maturity. What is the value-added as years go by?  You don’t have to be “old” or “elderly” to respond to this prompt. You have more years under your belt today than every before. So share your thoughts in your poem/s and

  • please submit your poem/s by pasting them into the comments section and not by sharing a link
  • please submit poems only, no photos, illustrations, essays, stories, or other pros

As I have aged…

As I have aged I have learned so many things… 

I remember wondering how my nightgown made real sparks in the dark of a summer night. 

I remember wondering how berries knew to grow on the same bushes every year. 

I remember wondering how I would ever live without my parents, even if I got married. 

I remember wondering how anyone could afford to buy a car. 

I remember wondering how my mail could get to another country in a few days. 

As I have aged I have learned to love things… 

Being a mother 

Being a giver, not a taker 

Being a friend 

Being kind 

Being smart 

Being happy 

Being thankful. 

As I have aged I have learned to hate things…. 

Losing loved ones  

Lives ending 




Aging is all about learning.