Tuesday November 5<\/p>\n
November at UDM is a month laced with fatigue, teaching and learning, working at teaching and working at learning, they are the hammer and the anvil on which we forge a university. This November again, and perhaps more than ordinarily, signs of fatigue seem to show themselves a lot — stories of deaths, wounds in the loves of our lives, and frustrations that need a stronger word than that to describe them. It’s a demanding time in a demanding year.<\/p>\n
Perhaps that’s why I decided to take some liberties and go autobiographical with today’s poem. My neice Terri writes poetry; and she grew up wildly in love with her grandmother. My mom died at 102 in 2005 and Terri wrote about it, one of a series of poems about grandma.<\/p>\n
Posted with affection and respect for the women and men with whom I live and work. Particularly respect for our griefs and our honorable fatigue.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
john sj
\nThe Living<\/p>\n
It’s strange the things people say
\nafter a death, crooked attempts
\nto comfort. Things like, “Oh,<\/p>\n
well she was old. She had a long life.”
\nor “She was ready to go.\u201d One woman
\neven said, her hand resting on my shoulder<\/p>\n
\u201cHer death was easy; that
\nshould make you happy.”
\nHappy. Easy. Words I never<\/p>\n
put together with death, words I still
\ncan\u2019t quite get my arms around
\nno matter my wingspan.<\/p>\n
And I think, Oh, this stumbling
\nover language as if it were new,
\ndespite a familiarity with time,<\/p>\n
the exhaustion and experience
\nof years, despite consideration of death,
\nhaving greeted that recognizable face before.<\/p>\n
It is easy to forget, tangled
\nin words of comfort,
\nthat the dead<\/p>\n
are dead; they do not feel
\nthe pain of departing,
\ndo not need to be consoled.<\/p>\n
It is those who are left
\nwho know the burden of sad and hard,
\nbowed low beneath the weight of loss.<\/p>\n
My son will never know her. He will never
\nunderstand why when he glares, shoulders
\nangled back and jaw thrust out<\/p>\n
stubborn like her, belligerent and
\nready for a fight, I, a fighter too,
\ncan only cry and hold him close.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Tuesday November 5 November at UDM is a month laced with fatigue, teaching and learning, working at teaching and working at learning, they are the hammer and the anvil on which we forge a university. This November again, and perhaps … Continue reading