Poetry Series: Day 4
Day 4 of the 7 Day Grief & Loss Poetry Series. I could probably write an entire book about my mom’s last few weeks of life. Maybe I will. But for now, a poem.
Final Days
Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits play on repeat--
Her favorite
The aide comes in to change her position
Messages ping on my worn-out phone
How is she?
How are YOU?
I’m bringing lasagna to your house tonight.
I flip through old photo albums
And think about the stories they tell
The nurse comes in to report her vitals.
Nothing is changing.
Everything is changing.
Their faces are somber but gentle.
Do you have any questions?
I do. So many, but she can’t answer them anymore.
That night, I eat the lasagna straight out of the pan.
On the first Mother's Day weekend after mom died, Chris was working out of state. On the weekends, I bent the rules and told the kids they could sleep wherever they wanted—the basement, the living room, my bed. Their choice.
Day 6 of the Grief and Loss Poetry Series. ONE MORE DAY to go. Thank you for joining me. I’d love to know how any of these poems have spoken to you or helped you on your own grief and loss journey. Your comments touch my heart more than you know!
Thanks for joining me here for the third day of my 7 Day Grief and Loss Poetry Series on the blog. Grief is a such a bear.
When I was in 8th grade, I tried out for the school play, which was a big deal. 8th graders were the lepers of our school, because we were tacked onto the high school building.
It wasn’t laziness, lack of respect or responsibility, or procrastination that stopped me. It was just pure grief. Too many memories down that street, I guess
We made it to the final day of the 7-Day Grief & Loss Poetry Series!