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

Demi-Sonnet for a Summer Night

fairy lights twinkle in summertime trees

night magic sparkles on firefly green leaves

darkness of black sky sets stage for the stars

evening’s cool blanket, reprieve from the heat

front porch swing beckoning rest for sore feet

chamomile tea welcomes day’s end with peace

myth’s constellations: such stories they weave

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 

The Wood Thrush ~ A Demi Sonnet

against the backdrop of clear cut pine trees

their homes have all fallen, logs now piled high

it gutted my soul as I mourned for their loss

from one lone hardwood tree left standing tall

the song of a wood thrush brings hope to all

proclaims resilience, brings me to my knees

its gratitude praise song raised to the sky

A Letter to a Place

One of last month’s prompts from Georgia Heard’s Tiny Writing Calendar was Letter to a Place. I am using the tiny Shadorma form (3-5-3-3-7-5) today to revisit this tiny writing topic.

her pen moves

across the paper ~

a letter

written to

the place of her family

roots ~ Goodbye, it says

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

Making Body Butter

My sister in law and I have been making various salves, lotions, balms, and body butters. It all started in April. She found a recipe for Bergamot Body Butter, and it’s been fun ever since. We each ordered some of the ingredients and a slew of containers, fired up the stove, and got to stirring and mixing, making our own magnesium and shea butter foot creams.

Today’s poem is a simple tricube – three stanzas of three lines with three syllables!

Sister Time Tricube

bergamot
shea butter
olive oil

lavender
mixing bowls
minerals

beeswax flakes
kitchen fun
sister time

May Open Write – Day 3 of 3 with Sarah J. Donovan for Demi Sonnets

Today’s host at http://www.ethicalela.com for our final day of the May Open Write is Sarah J. Donovan, who inspires us to write Demi-Sonnets about something we almost missed. You can read her full prompt here. Sarah says, of Demi-Sonnets:

  • 7 lines.
  • It’s formal without being, you know, strictly formal.
  • They are encouraged to end with a full or a slant rhyme. (An Emily Dickinson approved form.) Instead of a perfect rhyme where the ending sounds match exactly (like cat and hat), slant rhymes have slight variations in sound like hope and cup, bridge and grudge.
  • Erin describes them as “aphoristic” and something of an “elongated fortune cookie” 
  • There’s no set syllable count.

Call Interference

front porch phone call late at night

unfurling starburst: opening show

caught my eye in the moon’s spotlight

petal by petal, revealing its brilliance

conversation ~ a bloom interference

most never see this nocturnal sight:

Queen of the Night crowning waterlily-bright!