Milestones.
Invites in the mail.
Celebrate!
"Save the date" -
Casey and Jake
cordially invite you to celebrate
their big day;
next will come
more rich cardstock,
pristine and pretty,
"Welcome to the world" our new baby girl,
and after that,
a few years that fly like the wink of an eye,
a boy to complete the unit:
Mom and Dad, son and daughter.
Another invite in the mail!
White and bright,
glittering with good news.
Another mother's paid her dues:
Her baby grew as babies do,
As all babies should.
Another wedding! Life is good.
She paid her dues.
I did too!
While others flourish, one will inexplicably flower and fade.
We don't get to ask why.
We cooked and cleaned, we fed and bathed,
we loved and nurtured and played.
If the train went off the track,
Would you want your money back?
I want my son back.
Do they see no invites come from me?
Every day is a good day
So long as we are here,
breathing the same air,
sipping each afternoon tea
as it were our last.
The last sip of tea
The last breath
The last word, a whisper,
"Mom"
"Celebration of Life," they call it now,
but I don't know how
to rejoice that he is gone,
that this boy of mine
never married,
never made a granny of me,
never lived to weather the storms
that give us our gray hair and wise airs.
Another invite in the mail.
Another baby is all grown up now.
My only job, to share the joy.
Sending love, and my regrets,
I'm just not ready yet....
NOTE: I was trying to write a poem for one of my favorite poets, but I will never capture and distill words like she does. Sorry for that, but sorry, sorry, sorry for the recent loss I'm not able to express.
This is for @owasco. For now, that is all I shall say.
I love you so very much, Carol. You done real good with this one. I am sobbing over here.
This line really got to me. We see the joy of others, always with tinges of both envy and hope. Some do see no invites; those are the fastest friends. Will an invite to a memorial satisfy? No, indeed it will not, which is why I cannot face that task. Herculean. Not happening, at least not now.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Ohhh, you read this, after all - I didn't think you'd be up for that.
I cannot do poems, but I can come up with one or two lines now and then that resonate.
You're the poet, and ever more shall be - and I wish I were there, in person, helping you through the Herculean tasks ahead.
Thank you for taking time to read and respond, especially now. {{Hugs!}}}
That is a wonderful poem!!!!
Wonderful? You are too generous. :)
The invites we don't get to send: somehow, that came through to you, but to most readers, would it? To have a child who doesn't thrive, doesn't celebrate the milestones so familiar to us: the weddings, births, baptisms, the occasions that warrant lovely card stock and postage stamps, inviting others to share the joy. YOU would be able to convey that in a few succinct words, even if it took three days to hammer them out.
Today someone wondered if anyone ever notices she, too, is suffering. She's a pastor, consoling others, but she's losing family members to cancer and strokes, and I keep coming back to this: "I am not typically on the 'needy' end of community... and yet I find myself needing... and feeling like no one notices my deep pain."
I notice (not always, of course) - I feel for others - but how to convey it? How to let someone know You are noticed, seen, loved - I guess, what else, but a CARD IN THE MAIL, right? Maybe that was the ironic final line my poem needed.
The pastor might always be at work when another human is nearby. She needs some friends - friends notice, because friends you let see.
Your poem is really really excellent. Succinct (yes, even you can do that), simple and pure. The use of the invitation as a foundation is brilliant, and very effective. I think anyone who finishes the poem will see the invitation's purpose in the piece. For me, the missing invitation (to a marking of a passage), is left in the ether, but very much there, just like the lost life. No final line is needed. Let those who really understand the poem feel the unsent invitation, or the invitation in the mail, whichever they would want to do. I really love this thing, it's perfect.
That is high praise indeed! Thank you Stacey! All I really wanted these words to do was let you know how very much you're on my mind and in my heart. You've cheered ME up. You are a marvelous poet and short-story writer, and you've inspired me and made my day more than I can measure. Thanks again. :)
It's mutual, love. xo
I found a website full of poems for mothers and sons. This:
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/for-the-need-of-you
OK so your poem is hands down much much better than any of those. I read at least six of them. Yours is more insightful and incisive, cuts its message into the reader's heart, instead of merely talking about a cut heart. Yours is original, those are all the same.
But the provided quote, yes. I had those feelings while he was still living though, because he did not thrive physically for the last, oh, twelve years or so. His/my loss is different. I'll miss him. Today is my first day alone, without any of the women who supported me through his passing and beyond, and I am going through those motions one after the other.
@carolkean I am absolutely touched, both by your post and by this beautiful exchange of love and friendship between you and @owasco. Everything is beautiful, it reminds me of my own losses, but they don't look like yours, I just send you a hug and pray to God to give you strength.
Thank you, Sweet Silver.
Here is a link to @owasco's first post about Niko:
Oh, I really appreciate 🥰