Faith is believing in something that we cannot see.
We turn to God in our darkest hours–
to what end?
We ask for healing,
when healing doesn’t come,
we ask for strength.
I listen for an answer I cannot hear
knowing that ‘No’ is an answer, too.
One foot in front of the other, my friend,
God helps those who help themselves.
The sun will come out tomorrow
after all “Tomorrow is another day.”
Ah, Scarlett, you always landed on your feet.
Maybe I will, too.
© Ginny Brannan 2021
Now I know now why you did what you did–
drowning your sorrow one shot at a time,
escaping what your heart couldn’t bear;
masking the truth for just a while longer,
– another drink for the pain and the loss
because anything is better than feeling.
Oh, that it would make a difference…
But I am not you;
we can’t hide from the hand that we’re dealt.
I believe the only way past something
is to go through it.
Riding the waves
But I finally understand why
you did what you did
—because anything is better than feeling
© Ginny Brannan 2021
This refers back to the memories of my dad. Back in the day of my parents, the loss of someone dear was to be surrounded by well-meaning family and friends and a round (or two or three) of drinks to drown one's sorrow. This was brought to mind, because even though I was oh, so young, I remember watching my dad going through the loss of my mom. I understand the "why" now, but also know there is no escape, only postponement. Doing my best to deal here, to heal here.
Even as you walked your path,
between this world and the next
you still thought of others.
You gave us an incredible gift,
bearing the choice
so we wouldn’t have to.
You, you were always our gift…
and so we send you home to wait for us
and carry you now and always in our hearts.
© Ginny Brannan 2021
Ray William Brannan
March 5, 1956— April 7, 2021
Ray was born in Freeport Long Island to Edward and Elizabeth Brannan, the 3rd of 4 sons. He grew up in Merrick, NY and attended schools there, graduating from Calhoun High School in 1974. He went on to college, earning his Bachelor of Science degree from New York Institute of Technology in 1980.
Ray met his wife Ginny, a Vermonter, in November of 1979. He always joked about it being his “first and LAST blind date! They were married on October 3rd, 1981. They resided on Long Island for just over 5 years, moving north and making their home in Ludlow, MA in 1987. Together they have one son, Patrick, born in 1985. Ray was a loving father and enjoyed spending time with his son, whether camping with the scouts, vacationing at The Cape, or watching their favorite comedies together. Laughter was always present in their home!
Ray was employed by Big Y Foods in Springfield MA from 1987 until his retirement in late 2016, working in Grocery and transitioning to Security Receiver. He liked his work, and enjoyed much camaraderie and laughter with his co-workers.
From 1991 to 1993, Ray volunteered on the Ludlow Conservation Commission, putting his
Science Degree into service for his town.
Ray loved history and was a Civil War buff, especially enjoying his trips into Gettysburg when visiting family in PA. He also loved to travel, and felt blessed to have visited the shores of Ireland and Wales. And although a New Yorker, he adapted well to his New England home, embracing all of the local teams, especially his New England Patriots!
He leaves behind his wife Virginia ‘Ginny’ and son Patrick of Ludlow MA
His brother Edward Brannan and Edward’s wife Pat of Carlisle PA
His brother Thomas Brannan of Glenville, PA
His sister-in-law Kathy Brannan of Bessemer City, NC
His niece Tammy Dawn McCarthy and her husband Leonard of Eureka, CA
His nephew Jason Brannan and his wife Natalie of Crouse, NC
His nephew and godson Michael Brannan and his wife Ashley of Carlisle PA
His godson Mathew Parant ,and Mat’s wife Jane of VT and FL
and several great nieces and nephews, cousins, his extended family in VT, and many very close and cherished friends.
He was pre-deceased by his parents Edward and Elizabeth, his older brother John, and beloved sister-in-law Susan, each lovingly remembered and missed.
Ray was a spiritual man who had faith in God and what was to come. May God welcome him
home with open arms.
**Note: Due to the pandemic protocols, and the fact that our dear families and friends are spread across the country from northern VT to PA to NC to FL, and west to CA, we opted in lieu of a traditional memorial and burdening family and friends with the decision to travel across the country, to ask each of you instead, our beloved friends and family, to celebrate Ray in your own way. Raise a glass to him when you gather, remember him with fondness and joy, and hopefully much laughter as you share your stories!
As long as we speak their name and remember, then they are never truly gone.
I sit in a vacuum unable to breathe
unable to hold you, to be at your side
not even a glimmer of what lies ahead
I cannot find solace, I can’t find reprieve
while waiting to see just what fate will decide.
I can’t seem to get all these thoughts to subside—
you’re not here to hold me, to say “It’s okay.”
They race like a freight train to some unknown stop;
I’ve chosen these strangers with which to confide,
as I struggle to keep all the demons at bay.
The world’s upside down, in complete disarray
holding tight to each message, each small ray of hope
white-knuckled, not knowing what will come next.
There’s too many outside forces at play,
I’m treading water, yet barely afloat.
Where will we land? No one can say…
just trying to hold onto one. more. day.
Image by Charlie Parant at Appetite For Photos. Used only with express written permission.
My heart lies torn and bleeding,
my body, disemboweled;
my compass no longer points ‘true north.’
I cannot see over the rise ahead
to know what comes next.
You lie there fighting battles we cannot see,
and we are helpless but to watch.
When all else fails, we pray
searching for answers yet to come
functioning on auto-pilot
as we hang on any news.
© Ginny Brannan 2021
*Image by author
I hold you on the dark side of my heart
drifting with the flotsam and the jetsam
well-hidden in the wreckage and debris.
You and I ill-fated from the start–
infecting me like some sort of disease
drawn and quartered, then hung out to dry
so different from the outcome I’d perceived.
Yet when the twilight swallows up the day
in the silent midnights we accrue,
pondering the follies of our youth
in that darkness lives a shred of truth…
hiding there where no one else can see
ever you’ve remained a part of me.
© Ginny Brannan 2021
A sonnet, or "something" like it...
NaPoWriMo 2021
