Cancer, or Death Poem 1

To Mom....

I never knew which part of death would hurt the most.

Nobody really tells you, either;

   but in hindsight, it’s easy to recognize:

 

It isn’t the lingering smell of lilac perfume

   or the swirling sweat pea from beneath the sheets;

there’s something far harsher than boxing up memories and fighting back tears—

more painful than the dilated pupils

   and pale white skin;

there’s one thing that stands out more than the vibrant soul

   wrapped inside that thin, milky shell—

more than the crystal-clear hue of nevermore

   lying atop velvet, surrounded by oak;

it’s heartless; soulless; and yes:

   It ravages still more than the insatiable appetite and unquenchable thirst of cancer.

 

More than anything, the hardest part of death is surviving:

It’s realizing that every story will always take place in the past tense

   and that every fading memory is really an erasure.

Reviews

[Kristina Moulaison]

I recognize this pain and you have penned it so poignantly and created something really extraordinary here. Well done!

[Michelle Tarnowski]

Holding on to memories takes work. It's the telling of them over time that continue them from generation to generation. Each memory carries with it emotions, colors, smells, sounds, and more that are indicative of each instance. They are like a fluid quilt in time. No one else will ever have the same exact ones as you. My father shared his memories with me and I shared them with my children who in turn are spreading that quilt of remembrances out over their children. But we have included our own personal pieces that are passed down as well. I have lost my parents and all but one sibling to cancer and other diseases. The loss and sorrow run deep but what I had with them will always be mine. Hold on to your memories.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

These words carry the impact of loss. I know that impact and I feel for you. You have zeroed in on the heart of loss.

It is comforting to see you here a wee bit more frequently though.

[This Page Does Not Exis..]

Chas, I'm sorry for the brokeness and the pain. I'm sorry you even had to write these words... how can I console such a bitter, and tragic experience? One I have not had to go through myself....

The cliche is, I know she in a better place, and I hope time heals your soul so that your memories bring you joy, not pain and that you find the strength to move forward....

All My Love,
Nancy