Such a beautiful piece. I love how you contain the sadness in such precise sentences; "My daughter is not flying home." I'm glad that you see the wonder in nature and are able to use weave it into your experience.
This is beautiful. Bitter sweet. If you'd like to DM me your address, I'd love to send you a mother's days card. In the bizarro universe, my mom is still here, but she's not. We can do that for each other. Or just know that the thought is there. 🩵 When she was still aware, on her 90th or 91st birthday, 75 friends and facebook strangers sent her birthday cards (and surprise - to me - gifts) because we do that for each other. Many of them are still up on her wall. Sometimes she notices.
keening REALLY helps release that pain - go to YouTube and watch Robin Williams and Carol Burnett talk about keening in a comedy skit. Then go off by yourself and give it a try. You'll be amazed. I was. It really helped me get onto the bottom step to climb out of the pool of tears I was living in.
Your poem gave me goosebumps, Judith, so beautiful despite so much sadness. I wish you all good things in your new home, with many beautiful birds to watch and enjoy.
Your words are so beautifully crafted. I felt your joy and sadness in turn. I’m very sorry for your loss and I hope that your move will be a happy one. I would be nice to hear more about it in future posts.
We have two adult daughters and four older sons, the youngest three all have a degenerative neurological disease. They are still with us but I get waves of what I believe is called anticipatory grief as I witness them lose mobility and function. In my experience faith, words, the arts, and the love of a good man have keep me going, and that connection with my poetry community touches me and enriches my life. Reading the replies also touched my heart.
Judith I love getting these small vignettes. We all feel losses as we age but you bring poetry to the hurt. I hope that writing as you are doing is helping to contain the losses and turn them creative. Your turns of phrase are lovely. Keep going, sister. We are here, keeping you in our hearts.
Such a beautiful piece. I love how you contain the sadness in such precise sentences; "My daughter is not flying home." I'm glad that you see the wonder in nature and are able to use weave it into your experience.
Thank you. I am honored by your words.
This makes me very sad for you. A daughter is so special and you have had so many losses plus this too.
This moved me to tears. Thank you for touching my heart.
Thank you for touching my heart.
So beautiful. Sorrow, loss, longing, hope, and love. Thank you for this, Judith.
I am deeply grateful to you. Thank you and deep bow.
My pleasure, Judith. A lovely post.
Truly. Beautiful. Sending so much love…
I hope your new residence quickly becomes a warm, new home. May there still be birds singing and good sunrises to soften your days.
So many moving themes addressed here in such tightly compressed space - very beautiful, Judith. Wishing you all the best, as ever.
This is beautiful. Bitter sweet. If you'd like to DM me your address, I'd love to send you a mother's days card. In the bizarro universe, my mom is still here, but she's not. We can do that for each other. Or just know that the thought is there. 🩵 When she was still aware, on her 90th or 91st birthday, 75 friends and facebook strangers sent her birthday cards (and surprise - to me - gifts) because we do that for each other. Many of them are still up on her wall. Sometimes she notices.
feeling all the feelings lets the feelings flow
keening REALLY helps release that pain - go to YouTube and watch Robin Williams and Carol Burnett talk about keening in a comedy skit. Then go off by yourself and give it a try. You'll be amazed. I was. It really helped me get onto the bottom step to climb out of the pool of tears I was living in.
Such dependable excellence is rare and wonderful.
Your poem gave me goosebumps, Judith, so beautiful despite so much sadness. I wish you all good things in your new home, with many beautiful birds to watch and enjoy.
Your words are so beautifully crafted. I felt your joy and sadness in turn. I’m very sorry for your loss and I hope that your move will be a happy one. I would be nice to hear more about it in future posts.
We have two adult daughters and four older sons, the youngest three all have a degenerative neurological disease. They are still with us but I get waves of what I believe is called anticipatory grief as I witness them lose mobility and function. In my experience faith, words, the arts, and the love of a good man have keep me going, and that connection with my poetry community touches me and enriches my life. Reading the replies also touched my heart.
Warm wishes from North Wales.
I will take a look for sure and I might give it a try. Thank you for your suggestion.
Thank you once again......everyone's sadness is different but evolves, probably, in being the same. Does that make us all connected? I hope so.
One thing stands out to me in all your writing - you make beauty out of pain and horror. Letters from The Human Prison.
Beauty. I do try to focus on beauty. Thank you for reading. And for your comments.
Judith I love getting these small vignettes. We all feel losses as we age but you bring poetry to the hurt. I hope that writing as you are doing is helping to contain the losses and turn them creative. Your turns of phrase are lovely. Keep going, sister. We are here, keeping you in our hearts.