grief and patience {poetry thursday}
grief. over the last year and a half, this has become a theme of my life. the deep, wide, gut-wrenching reality that grief invites. and one of the ways i am healing (also known as "holding it all together except when i am not and am instead knocked over only to realize i am not alone on this path") is reading poetry (and writing a little as well).
one of the poets who has spoken to me in the midst of this journey into poetry as i travel through grief is marge piercy. earlier this year, i checked out her book Colors Passing Through Us. in this collection, she has a few poems that whisper about her experience of her mother's death. this line, from "The day my mother died" stopped me right where i was and i recall sucking in my breath as i read it out loud:
That day opened like any
ordinary can of tomatoes.
so much said in these words. with this line, she evokes a kinship with people who have lost someone. yes, an ordinary day. that suddenly becomes something else entirely.
visit this page from The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor to read the all of "The day my mother died." (OH! and please note, this page loads in an odd way. the top of the page is basically gray and blank, but don't dispair, just scroll down to find the poem.) if you click on "Listen" under the date on this page, you can also hear Keillor read this poem (just keep listening, he does read it, but it is toward the end). as jon and i listened to this tonight, i turned to him and said, "i kind of want to curl up inside his voice and take a nap." i love listening to him read. and now that i know you can hear him read all these poems he posts at this site, i am going to try to listen to one a day.
i will visit this week's Poetry Thursday prompt at some point in the future. just not in this post. i am learning the valuable lesson that even though you want to finish a poem, it might want to sit a bit longer and unveil itself to you over time. so the poem i planned to share is doing that right now. we are both learning patience.
on grieving (and healing), poetry
Reader Comments (31)
Grief and patience are lovers, I think.
It's great to be able to listen to the poetry, and read along. Thanks for the link.
i think you are right
that sometimes
you need to let it sit
and come out in its own time...
it can't be extracted.
Thanks so much for this poem and site! I love being able to listen to poetry online. Your own poem will come when it needs to. It will come. It will. xoxo
Marge Piercy is a wonder--and I appreciated the links to her and Keillor. This audio poetry is quite amazing...I'm still thinking of your poetry reading post. How I loved this...
I think my poem for this week's prompt is one that I have to be patient with, too.
Marge Piercy. I have her poems on my walls. And I'm glad you discovered Garrison Keillor's readings. He's great.
--maureen
I am fortunate that I have yet to experience the grief that comes from losing a loved one.
I am thankful that you are sharing your process here. I feel less afraid when the inevitable does happen.
Grief.. such a powerful cleansing emotion.
I love the lines you shared--the day opening like a can of tomatoes. It seems so crazy that tragedy strikes in the midst of the mundane.
Thank you for sharing this (I love Marge Piercy, she's one of my favorite modern poets); and your journey through your grief. Though my mother's been gone 8 years now and my grandmother many more than that, I still can feel that "stillness of empty air." I love listening to Garrison Keillor's voice, too - he could recite a laundry list and imbue it with meaning! We saw the new "Prairie Home Companion" movie this past weekend, and my ears thrilled every time he spoke.
Have you read his "Good Poems for Hard Times" collection? I really enjoyed that, also.
I have had The Writer's Almanac bookmarked on my favorites list for quite a while. I love Garrison Keillor, and I am never disappointed with the poem of the day. I loved the movie, too, and just yesterday ordered a DVD of his 30th Anniversary show. I have, I guess, 8 or 9 of his books, and as I read them, I always hear his voice inside my head!
Let that poem brew and stew. Thats how they get really good and true. Thank you for sharing those lines - the extraordinary alongside the every day.
Marge Piercy was one of my first poetry loves (my really-smart-way-too-hip-for-Boise English teacher introduced me to her).
Time for me to get back to her!
And thanks to you and Lynn, a gabazillion and two times over, again and again, for making my Thursdays so full!
I love Marge Piercy. I thought of discussing one of her poems for this week's prompt. I look forward to reading your poem at a later date...
and thanks for sharing some of your story with us.
I love that verse...sometimes a moment, place, or time that seems as ordinary as a can of tomatoes can be extraordinary to someone else. Wow!
You are so good at sitting with your life. You inspire me to do the same.
Hugs,
a.
I can't wait to see that poem once it's finished, or even a first draft.
LoveShack's been bugging me about that Garrison Keillor site. I haven't visited it yet, but I will.
It sounds like an amazing poem, but probably not one for me to read right now. There are moments when the grief feels too close to the edge, when I'm not sure I can pull myself back. The day that began like any other for me was the day my sister was first diagnosed. I'll never forget the shocks of that week, the way the ordinary took on a different texture and color and the fog that wouldn't clear.
I'm going to save reading the poem you linked to for another day because I'm having sort of a rough week, but I will revisit it at some point.
And speaking of revisiting, I'm glad to see someone else needing a little extra time to let a poem grow and change before they respond to a prompt. It makes me feel less alone. :-)
Thank you. I needed a poem about grief.
I read the poem and immediately called my mom. Can't even imagine losing her.
Hope you find strength and love in these words on this fine Poetry Thursday (even though I'm posting on Friday).
Thanks for the poem and the reminder to treasure what we have.
Hi Liz,
I have been away for a while enjoying the Oregon coast and summer here at home, busy in the garden as well as with routine life. I stopped by for a moment today to see what you are up to and enjoyed the Keillor link. Thanks!
Reading a little further on another Keillor page I saw that Thoreau's experiment on Walden Pond was actually an attempt to recapture time he had spent in the wilderness with his brother, then dead. He had grieved intensely for this sibling. Grief has elicited such creative force throughout time from so many artists and writers. It truly has inspired life in immeasurable ways, hasn't it? I say this to remind you that your own grief has sent you onto a path which is enriching your life...and which keeps your love alive. :)
Have a great weekend in this beautiful place we live.
That's the thing about grief - it can overstay its welcome, yet we must keep coping with it and learn new ways to work through it and around it. Thanks for pointing the way to these poems. Thinking of you, dear heart...Stay strong!
Sending peace your way. Thanks for sharing the way to these other poems.
A very difficult poem for me to read (i had to read it quickly) - no matter how much i know this, inside and out, the simplicity of true words can still cut me down. i know where you are, sweetheart, i know how you feel
x
I lost my mother-in-law (who made me call her mother -in-love) 14 years ago. I had known her since I was 15 years old and fell in love with her before my husband.
That was a very ordinary day...until the phone rang....every day after that has never been ordinary again.
I'm holding you deeply within the comforting places of my heart.
xxxd