Poetry Series: Day 2

I am so glad you’re here for Day 2 of my 7 Day Grief and Loss Poetry Series. The following poem was inspired by a moment that happened to me a few months after I lost my mom. My middle child has a history of asking very thoughtful questions, usually when I least expect it. I’ll never forget the time when he was three years old, sitting in the back seat of the minivan, having recently discovered the wonders of Star Wars. Out of the blue, his little voice pops up. “Mommy,” he says, “Why does Darth Vader have so much badness in his heart?”

His little mind is always wondering, and it turn, he makes me wonder too.

Starry Eyed

It was one of those perfect summer nights
where the sun is still kissing everyone
Even as it sets, and the bugs are somewhere else,
Not touching you one bit.

I’m pulling a few weeds and doing a lotta nothing really
While the kids ride bikes in the driveway.
The stars are coming out to say hello
And Jackson stops pedaling to look up.

Hey mommy? A question is coming and it’s gonna be deep.
So, is each of the stars, like, a person in heaven
Looking down on us?
Like they can see us but our eyes aren’t strong enough to see them?

I go the pragmatic route and we talk about
The solar system and gasses and balls of light
But wouldn’t that be something?
If all the ones we loved and lost could stay in touch?

It’s getting pretty dark now, so we walk inside.
I pass by the picture of mom hanging on the wall
I drink from a glass that I took from Grandpa’s cabin before we sold it.
I look in the mirror. Those are dad’s eyes staring back at me.

Maybe it’s not that they can see us.
Maybe each ball of light isn’t their visage shining to us all the way from heaven.
But maybe there are other signs, other connections
And maybe we can still stay in touch, after all.