M is for Mourning

I haven't always been the perfect daughter! Who is? My mother and I have always had a somewhat volatile relationship. Three and a half years ago, we had a terrible falling out. I chose not allow her behavior in front of my children to continue.

I stopped speaking to her, and because of my choice, the remainder of my family chose not to speak to me. I mourned this "death" for a very long time. I wrote this poem long before I knew she was ill. Dying from brain cancer.

MOURNING CLOAK

The mourning happens
When I miss you most,
Mother.

Each longing, a small death,
Leading me through our
family crypt of dysfunction.

I break the lock, swatting cobwebs of tangled
memories from my face, spewing angry epitaphs,
etched into your granite heart.

Is your skin now paper, thin?
Have you forgotten what it is, you need to remember?
Or do you prefer age as your excuse.

The sharp shards of your slated words
impale me, one at a time.
"I. Wish."

The “Never,” scraping, flaying me,
The “had,” exposing, tearing away,
“You!”

I inhale, turn back to my life without you,
Shrug off the mourning cloak
Of my life, of you.
I lock the crypt once more.

As of today, she is home from the nursing home, Hospice caring for her.

I saw my mother two months ago, she still recognized me, her grandchildren, and my husband. She could hardly speak. But she knew us, knew we had come, that I was there.

We've visited her twice since. Her last words to me were 4, 5 , 6, 7. This is how she responded to all questions, counting. Counting down, counting seconds?

Now she is completely lost now, locked inside her head. No more words.

I love you, Mom!

J is for Just Remember

I’ve been thinking about how the small things that happen to us, change us. I’m well traveled. My honeymoon was a three week adventure, driving around Namibia (what used to be German Southwest Africa) in an unair-conditioned Ford, diesel station wagon and camping under the stars. A weekend adventure to Costa Rica to zip line the canopy, only to sprain my ankle so badly, I couldn’t. Skinny-dipping in November in the Baltic Sea off of Sweden.

Visiting the German City of Dachau, on a rainy winter’s day to visit the concentration camp.

From the car, we followed the signs for the entrance, down a path along a gray concrete wall. A group of Czech teens were laughing and joking ahead of us. I think I looked up then because the wall seemed unnaturally high. That was when I realized we were walking the exterior perimeter of the camp. A guard tower peaked through the trees and vines, chilling me.

My husband took my hand.

Approaching the entrance wasn’t difficult, what made it hard was knowing that I was about to willingly walk through the gate when others had never had a choice. I needed to compose myself. I closed my eyes and was instantly swept back by the smell of fear coming from the railroad bed under my feet. Time was disjointed, I had to open my eyes.

I heard my name and moved closer to the gate. This is what I saw.

Being there was eerie, as again time wavered between then and now. The place wreaked of despair. My eyes watered the entire time.

As dusk approached, groups of people moved toward the gate. The Czech teens, subdued.
No shouts of Halt as I exited through the gate. No rapid fire machine guns popping. Silence except for the footfalls of those around me.

Then the sky exploded. A sonic boom, my husband said. I felt time tear and this is what happened.

DACHAU REVISITED

Metallic drizzle glazes the decades.

Knees tremble stepping from the car.

Our forced march through time defies fear.

Subtle grays disguise the truth,

a spasm of recognition etches guard tower, ruined wall.

Now covered in vines, leaves of brown

plaster tightly to bricks and mortar.

I walk, eyes straight ahead.

Grays shift in the corner of my vision,

twist into muted shapes of rigor mortis.

Wrought iron lies greet me.

Beyond, the shadows coagulate into ghosts of the once-living

wearing gray and white stripes like the criss-cross of barbed wire.

Gravel crunches underfoot; I taste ashes in my mouth.

Forced march -- double-time -- down the avenue to the gate.

I feel the noose around my neck, choking.

Ovens cold and dark, hungry lips coated with what I do not want

to see. I can’t close my eyes,

I don’t want to look.

I can’t stop.

Jostled and bumped by mournful souls, I flee

through the gate of lies.

Truth explodes around me.

A sonic boom rips through the air, tearing time.

Ghosts walk along side me, through me

Liberated.

From my yard!

I love living in New Hampshire. The mountains, lakes and wildlife calm me and keep me grounded.  Everyday, I discover hidden beauty in my yard, yesterday was no different. I went to burn the brush pile. Just as I was about to toss the match in, I look down and saw.

The brush pile will look like this for a while longer.

I decided to walk the property to see what else I had been overlooking lately. This is what I found on the pond.

In the garden.

I looked along the pond and took in the texture of the trees. I love how the birches bend over the water and the lilac bushes throw purple in amongst the fresh new greens.

But what I saw today was my dream of turning my 205 year-old barn into my writing studio/retreat edging closer to the top of my wish list.

Someday soon!

Tell me, what do you wish for?

Two for Tuesday! April 6, 2010

All right, I may be flashing back or just having hot flashes, but I am still into the following quote by Jimi Hnedrix.

1. "When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace." Jimi Hendrix

     The word peace has been on my mind a lot in the last few weeks.  Finding my inner peace, keeping my inner peace, even sharing it quietly or in silence, because that is what peace is all about. Not recognition, just being and giving and knowing who I am, and how I have changed. 

2.  "Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be." Abraham Lincoln
      This from a man who truly knew what it was like to be unhappy and depressed.

No bonus quote today. But I would like it if you would share these quotes with at least one person. Let me know what tehy say by leaving me a comment. Thanks!