Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll share some poem sketches written earlier this month, on our trip to Florida. The day my husband and I flew down, we went to see my dad. When I went into the bathroom, I was struck by the sight of my mom’s nightgown, still hanging on the back on the door, more than a year after her death. I know my dad just can’t bear to remove it.
7 Responses
Beautiful. And sweet.
I posted my traded line on Friday — it ended up about my mother’s passing.
so poignant — sad yet beautiful.
It’s everyday moments like this one that bring us up short–your poem perfectly captures that feeling of loss. Thanks for sharing it.
Och, my heart.
I left my grandmother’s coffee cup, unwashed, at the top of the sink for YEARS. Grief goes its own pace; I hope that your Daddy leaves that there as long as he needs it.
So hard to separate from those last few physical connections…Recently, Dad went through an extra sad spell that caught him by surprise. He feels like he should be “moving on” faster and “getting over it.” I tried to reassure him that there’s no timetable and he will just learn to live with Mom’s passing a little better, but you don’t get over it.
Your poem says it all, and so beautifully. 36 years after my mom died, I still have clothes she made that no one wears, but I can’t bear to give them away. I think grief and loss are seismic changes and you have to adjust to a new landscape.
🙁 Like you said, there’s no timetable.