everyone comes in crying
and they slap you into it if not
everyone should fade away
held soft in love and memories
and they slap you into it if not
everyone should fade away
held soft in love and memories
so time comes forward
like the very next verse in a song
a wormhole to eternity
narrating the next up tempo jump
you're a child carried to bed:
dim room, steady hands, hushed love
safe now to dream of eternity
as we're all right here in the next room
_______________
Note: Three months today. I'm struggling a lot--with grief--but also trying to understand the finality of it all, the seemingly meaningless trick--where did they go?
Nance described something similar reading obituaries in the wake of her father's death, "I'd read them, look at the photos, and feel a sense of real awe and loss that This Was A Person Who Was No Longer Here."
I think I'm trying to figure it out... Like what is this cosmology and can I speak it into being?
______________
Pic: An icy Red Cedar and lots of intrepid ducks with Big A.
8 comments:
This is a time of year when grief hits especially hard -- so much cheer, gatherings, so many happy people -- and we don't feel like we are one or want to be part of any of them. We do -- and we don't. We go through the motions and sometimes even are able to push those feelings into the back of our minds for a bit, but then life quiets and they pop up. We're tired, so much going on. Then this grief burst hits again and we wonder how we can put one foot in front of the other. But we do. I go through an annual grief bump in December too -- but I've had 22 years since, enough for it to soften. They do soften, Maya. But not yet. So be kind to yourself, gentle. Everyone grieves differently, in different times and ways. Please don't hesitate to remind those around you who might not quite "get it" that you grieve on your own schedule, nothing textbook or linear. You will walk through this forest, you will come out of the side. And you will always, always have the love that you were blessed to be given in your heart to help carry you through. Biggest hugs.
This poem gets better every time I read it.
At first, I was confused by the opening 2 lines; they seemed so out of place and jumbled in meaning and cacophanous in tone compared to the rest, and then! BAM the whole thing crystallized for me. Genius. And I teared up.
Because this truly tells the story of Grief--the kind of grief that makes you angry and tired. The kind of grief that makes you a child again. The kind of grief that makes you want the world to stop--Just Stop, even for a moment--because you can't process real life right now. All you want is the safety and warmth you felt as a small child, protected by those whose job it was to keep you safe, right now when you need it the most.
Well done, my friend. Much love to you.
That last stanza is so moving.
I remember when my father died I kept doing ordinary things (read the newspaper, eat breakfast) and thinking he's never going to do this again and it just floored me.
That poem is really incredible, Maya. Very moving.
Grief really rears its head during the holiday season, I think. I am a person who thinks that the spirit is everywhere, but sometimes that can be hard to see, if that makes sense?
Right after I read this I came across this: https://cupofjo.com/2025/12/04/the-fragile-hearts-guide-to-surviving-the-holidays/ and had to share.
This is a lovely gut punch of a poem, Maya. I too feel like my parents should be in the next room, with Mulder perhaps, and that they are not (or are they?) is a shock sometimes.
I thought of you yesterday when a song came on that reminds me of the early days after my mom died. I was going to text you, but thought, ‘what if she’s having a good moment right now, a tiny bit of respite, and I pull her back into pain?’ So I didn’t. I added it to the end of today’s blog post instead. Hang in there, dear sister-friend. This is a rough time you are going through.
What a comfort and an anguish, to have our lost loved ones so close and so untouchable. Sending you love.
There's never any getting to the end of grief is there, or understanding that we are here and then at some point we are not here, but we don't disappear completely. The first Christmas and all the other firsts are so difficult, and yours is not very far out, so I hope you will be so gentle with yourself.
Post a Comment