No Good Reason

I’m healthy. My daughter thrives. My marriage is happy. The weather is sunny and mild. We’re not in the middle of a mortgage crisis. We can pay our bills. I have a good social network.

So why have I grown tired, sad, and teary over the course of the day? I was prepared to chide myself for ingratitude, but then I remembered. Tomorrow is an anniversary. It’s been three years, but time doesn’t erase the mark completely. I feel fragile right now. (And my daughter has changed –yet again — these past few days; the cues that used to communicate hunger and exhaustion have changed, she’s eating just about every 90 minutes, and I feel off-kilter in my competence.)

I wrote the following poem a couple of years ago regarding the event.

There Is No Place Too Small

It is easy to know how to meld with so much grief.
With joy there is blindness, rose-colored ignorance,
No body to tend, to anchor one to the earth.
When the world remains intact, you move nimbly,
Caressing the surface of things, noticing little.

But grief burrows in.
It needs only the exposed, wounded soul
To dig in as a tick under skin.
Grief bangs around the cellar, shrieking,
And behaves unpredictably, hijacking your eyes with tears
When the store clerk asks how you are. It clutches your
throat when you call the dentist’s office for a routine cleaning.
You walk now among oblivious humans, an emotional leper
With lesions rotting your heart.
All of existence has its own death,
It too could slip into a tumor-ridden coma
Adorned with catheter tubes,
And gasp last breaths to the sterile beat
Of a monitor, attended by loved ones…

Since there is no place too small
For grief to infiltrate,
You lie down, you surrender, and pull it into you
Into every cell of your being. You are its servant.
You take its orders, as a dog obeys commands
From an owner; you honor and bear it,
And in this way, endure.

Explore posts in the same categories: Aenigmas (My Poems), Arts, Journal, Nature, Poetry

5 Comments on “No Good Reason”

  1. marta Says:

    One thing about momhood is that you don’t even need a reason to feel out of sorts, blue, stressed, or hollowed out.

    But I’m thinking of you as always.

  2. Annie Says:

    Your poem was inspirational and is the place where I am struggling. After my mom and partner died the last 3 years I too have grief. I can not cry but your poem describes the daily struggle I experience. Thank you so much. Please visit my site if you like.

  3. Karen Says:

    Beautiful, beautiful. And look how you noticed it yourself, Mindful One. You remind me that I have an anniversary coming up myself.

  4. Susan Says:

    My dad died a few months back, my brother-in-law diagnosed with cancer, my daughter getting ready to apply for college, my son going in to high school, it’s that time of life where being sad makes a lot of sense, even in the midst of great joy.

  5. la peregrina Says:

    thinking of you