The Power of Love

She is my definition of strength.
In facing death, she showed no fear.
We never knew how much pain she was in.
We never knew something was wrong.
She fooled us all,
and I wish she hadn’t…
Maybe we could have done more, sooner.
What if she would have had more time?
What would my life be like now had she not hidden it from us?
These are the questions that haunt me.
And these are the questions that will never be answered…
I was ten.
So maybe there were signs that I didn’t catch.
And looking back, she was my hero, my best friend.
Nothing could bring her down in my eyes.
Nothing ever will.
She is my Memere, my Grandmother.
And I have not seen her in eleven years.
And I will never see her again.
Maybe in another life…
I don’t blame her strength though.
I envy her strength, her courage.
She never once acted as a sick, pained woman.
She never showed us, her grandchildren, her fear.
We only ever saw her love.
And I think that is where her strength came from.
The strength of her love kept her going for as long as she could
until she could go no more…


Photography  © Steve Warren

Photography © Steve Warren


Alexis Noel: “I am an architecture student in Boston, MA and am currently enrolled in a poetry class. Having a background in the arts and loving the therapeutic benefits of writing, this poetry class has been an amazing experience.”

Steve Warren’s interests are in the healing arts, poetry, photography, dance, the nutritional arts and much more. He is a peer specialist in the recovery movement.