For more Poetry Friday, stop over with Sheri Doyle, our host this week.
During the month of January, my blog posts have been primarily recounting the grieving process I experienced after the loss of a child, a full-term stillbirth many years ago. The impetus for revisiting this period of my life was the expected death of my father. While writing these posts, I opened myself to the deep sadness that I knew was approaching. In a way, I began the grieving process before he was gone, and Allison's death was the tool for allowing me to go there.
Daddy died almost two weeks ago. These two weeks have been full of grace and peace. Yesterday I wrote my memorial to this dear man. I am working my way back to a normal routine that no longer includes a regular visit to his assisted living apartment. This poem is rich in the emotions that play through me as I think of him.
Next week, I hope to finish the story of Allison. Once started, I feel strongly that I need to complete this accounting. For myself and for anyone else who needs to hear this journey. Thanks for reading.
He wrote a response on the facing page: I wish my heart was bigger, then I could be closer to you. H.
by: Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1906)
- HELD his letter in my hand,
- And even while I read
- The lightning flashed across the land
- The word that he was dead.
- How strange it seemed! His living voice
- Was speaking from the page
- Those courteous phrases, tersely choice,
- Light-hearted, witty, sage.
- I wondered what it was that died!
- The man himself was here,
- His modesty, his scholar's pride,
- His soul serene and clear.
- These neither death nor time shall dim,
- Still this sad thing must be--
- Henceforth I may not speak to him,
- Though he can speak to me!