Poetry Series: Day 7
We made it to the final day of the 7-Day Grief & Loss Poetry Series!
Read MorePoetry 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.
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Poetry Series: Day 3
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.
Read MorePoetry Series: Day 1
Welcome! For the next seven days on the blog, I am going to be sharing poems I have written around the theme of grief and loss. Writing about my losses has been a great source of healing for me, and I want to share a piece of that with you. I want you to know that if you are walking through a grief journey, you are not alone, and I also want to tell you that there is an infinitely wide range of normal when it comes to grief. Don’t let comparison slip in and lie to you, telling you it’s time to be “over it” or conversely, that you have “moved forward” too quickly. Sit in your feelings, give space to them, talk about them, write about them, do what you need to do that will bring about healing. And remember that you are loved and supported as you walk this road.
The following poem was inspired by a very real moment that I witnessed with my beloved Grandpa back in 2003.
A Few Days After The Funeral
Walking through La Rosa Grocery Store
On Orchard Lake Road
He opens the glass door
to grab her a French Cruller
The plastic tongs still pinching it,
suspended in midair
held by his unsteady hands
and then—it hits him like a ton of bricks.After 60 years,
she’s not home anymore
to enjoy it.
Putting the pastry down,
and sliding the tongs back into their designated slot
he wipes his eyes,
turns back to the cart,
and puts one foot in front of the other.
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We made it to the final day of the 7-Day Grief & Loss Poetry Series!