What Came to Me
I took the last
dusty piece of china
out of the barrel.
It was your gravy boat,
with a hard, brown
drop of gravy still
on the porcelain lip.
I grieved for you then
as I never had before.
~Jane Kenyon
I forgot my address the other day. It kind of panicked me because I decided it was a sign of old age. After going through all the addresses, phone numbers, etc that I did remember I concluded it really didn't mean anything (I hope!). As I get older I find I do forget things more easily. I suspect that if I live to be 100 and am senile at that point I still won't forget this date.
My mother died on July 14, 1999. She was 62 years old. It seems incredible to me that it's been 10 years. There is so much I wish I could tell her, so many people she didn't meet, so much that she missed. I think about all the "big" things and they make me sad and sometimes I'll cry but it's the little things that are the hardest. I cried in a store once because they had changed the margarine container & I wanted to tell her. It's those dumb little things that seem the hardest sometimes. The everyday, boring stuff that makes up life.
The first time I read this poem it made me cry (still does) because it portrays so clearly those small things.
6 comments:
I agree with you that it's the small things that hurt most. I like the poem & your post honey. Relax today with good memories for everything. Talk to you later.
Thank you Paul. You've been a prolific commenter this past week - I'm thinking you'll be starting your own blog soon! 8-) (That's an emoticon that means eye-rolling which is probably what you did when you read that.)
Much too young and much too soon. My Mom made it to 80 and it was an accident that took her from us. We felt robbed.
Wonderfully written poem.
Thanks Peruby. I think no matter what, it's always too early to lose someone you love. Thanks for visiting.
My dad died in November that year in between my daughter's and my birthdays. He was 81 but I was nowhere near ready for him to go. I miss him so much. He was my best friend. I can see why this poem made you think of all the little things.
I don't think we're ever ready. It's nice that you were so close to him though. Those are good memories I'm sure. Take care.
Post a Comment