June Open Write Day 1 of 3 with Leilya Pitre of Louisiana

Our host today for the first day of the June Open Write is Leilya Pitre of Louisiana. She inspires us to write dictionary poems. You can write read her full prompt here.

She outlines this process for writing a dictionary poem:

Choose a word that may describe you, and then then write your poem as if it were a dictionary entry from your life. Include some or all of the following parts:

  • Etymology: Where did this word enter your life? Who gave it to you? When did it start to matter?
  • Definition: What does this word really mean to you now?
  • Synonyms/Antonyms: What words shadow it? What words have you replaced it with?
  • Misuses: When was the word used unfairly or wrongly?
  • Example Sentence: Include a personal memory or story that shows this word in action—your version of how it lived in your world.

What word have you carried? Write your own life-definition poem. You may follow this format closely or bend it to suit you. You may completely disregard the prompt and/or the instructions and write whatever brings you joy today.

Before Dad died, he kept urging us to tap into the serendipitous steering currents of the spirit. He loved words and their sounds and meanings. I’m choosing the word serendipitous today as my dictionary word.

serendipitous (adj.) – a favorite word of Felix Haynes; he referred to the serendipitous steering currents of the spirit – it began mattering in the days leading up to his death when he urged us to watch for things to happen – to unfold in unexpected and divinely inspired ways.

definition – the divineness of the hand that parts waters, lights stars, and moves mountains like in Romans 8:28, making a way where there seems to be no way.

synonym – beneficial

antonym – unfortunate

misuses – planned, controlled, humanly intentional

sentence: Don’t be surprised when the serendipitous steering currents of the spirit sweep in and cause miracles to happen.

Visitation Day

Today would have been my parents’ 61st wedding anniversary, but instead we’ll be having a visitation for Dad on the eve of his funeral. Mom has been gone for 10 years, and Dad just wasn’t the same without her. She was the love of his life and the only person who has ever been able to help him manage in a way that made any sense. Small snippets of the past three weeks come rushing back, not as a movie in my head but as a bunch of jagged-edged memories without their proper place on a timeline.

I don’t even know what day it is, which way is up or down, or whether I’m hungry or cold. I’ve lost all sense of the hours, whether I’m up past my bedtime or sleeping at all. My clothes may match – or not. It’s that headspace without a comfort zone, where everything feels numb and you hold on, hoping your facial expressions are all performed appropriately at the right times when you’re among people. The feeling is gone. The grief has set in.

this is where I am:

in the midst of chaos, the

corner of nowhere

Grief Numbness Haiku

Things are starting to hit home, ahead of the funeral on Saturday. Today was a partial reset, in between the day of Dad’s death and the day of the funeral. I feel like I’m just going through the motions on auto-pilot, and I remember this feeling after my mother died. There have been moments I’ve wanted to call and check on him. Then I realize – – I can’t do that anymore.

Today, my brother took Kona, Dad’s dog, to the funeral home to “explain things.” Kona checked him and sat down on his chest with the saddest look of understanding. We wanted her to know that he did not abandon her – – that he died loving her. She has a lovely new family now that will continue to take her to the dog park where she knows the dogs and people there – even though she will always look for the one who will not be returning. We gave her the unlaundered blanket, a gift from Hospice workers, that covered him on his ride from Hospice to the funeral home, and we pray it holds his scent for the rest of her days.

It’s all hitting so hard right now. I wasn’t expecting the numbness quite in this way. There will be some connecting with others who have lost fathers in the coming days. For today, I simply put one foot in front of the other and take breaths, pour coffee, and fold laundry. This is what I can do, and it brings a sense of accomplishment.

grief numbness sets in

after losing my father

is this happening???

Thursday the 12th: Leading up to Friday the 13th

The last person to see our father alive who knew him was Nick Doster.

My brother Ken and I had been trying to keep vigil next to Dad’s bedside so that he didn’t die alone in a room, but the hospice nurse urged us to go take showers and grab an hour or so of sleep when we’d become too exhausted. Some patients look for those moments to die alone, preferring not to have loved ones near in their final moments, she’d assured us. We knew the time was close, too, because just that afternoon Dad had begun the conversations with the others not of this world, but with whom he was having undeterminable conversations and for whom he was reaching.

Nick Doster and Dad had traveled to Wrigley Field in Chicago to see the Cubs play several years back, and shared a deep love of all things sports. So it was no surprise that when Nick showed up in the remaining hours of Dad’s life with a red Georgia Bulldogs hat, Dad found strength for an appreciative smile.

Imagine our bittersweet sadness when the call came at 4 a.m. that Dad had passed. We felt the grief of the loss and the joy of the release of all pain and suffering from this earthly realm into the Heaven he preached about all his life. Now. Imagine us walking into that Hospice room to spend time prior to the funeral home coming for the body.

Take all the time you need, the hospice nurse offered.

Imagine us opening that wide door one last time and looking at the bed, only to see a bright yellow blanket embroidered with Psalm 119:76 in black stitching on one corner covering Dad’s body – the sunshine of Heaven. And imagine a face at total peace, no wires or tubes protruding, no oxygen machine droning, the red hat still on his head against the stark white of the pillow.

My brother and I agreed – – he wears the hat to Heaven. We know it will be the perfect complement to his black doctoral robe with the velvet on the sleeves and the red piping. Above all, we know it will bring smiles to those who will come for visitation to see that Dad, ever the champion of going as far as one can go with education and cheering as strong as one can cheer for the Georgia Bulldogs, can still cause a stirring of hearts.

Imagine the grief

Imagine the laughter

Imagine the joy

A Demi Sonnet for Jessie

Jessie 

her servant’s heart embraced their broken hope

 her gentle spirit wielded toughest love 

such prayerful presence resurrecting souls

her intercessions strong on their behalf 

(and even in their healing, they could laugh)

in restoration, re-learned how to cope 

with Jessie‘s guiding wisdom from above 

June Gift Basket

If I were giving

you a gift basket

I’d make it a summertime sensation!

you’d receive

a skin-safe clean sunscreen

to keep you scorch-free and silky

a pair of sunglasses with readers

to soften the sunbeams

and a splishy

lightweight water tumbler

to saturate your senses

a basket sure

to make a splash !

Say Yes to Oui

I find inspiration in the lids of the yogurt I eat. I buy this brand not just because it’s delicious, but for the messages and the pure glass containers that will root new plant life for me to share with friends. Here is a poem inspired by Say Oui to Time Off!

Say Yes

we said yes because

what we know about us

is that we like a big window

and gray and white

and newness and matching

towels and linens

not odd assortments

and light,

plenty of light

and good music speakers

front, back, and outside

for good 70s tunes

and fifteen trips to France but

not going there

instead, staying close to home

but still away, oui?

and time off

to enjoy it

What Your Feet Know

In the spirit of tiny writing and short forms, today’s poem is a Shadorma (3-5-3-3-7-5) inspired by Georgia Heard’s Tiny Writing prompt calendar: What Your Feet Know.

What Your Feet Know

your feet know

after a long trip

the way home

your feet know

the tight pull of belonging

listen to your feet

Instructions for a Dream

Georgia Heard’s Tiny Writing calendar topic for today is Instructions for a Dream. I’m using the Shadorma form this month for these topics – a poem with syllable lines numbering 3-5-3-3-7-5.

Instructions for a Dream

drift to sleep

on marshmallow clouds

chase rainbows

hug puppies

paint a night sky canvas of

glittered twinkling stars