Letters To The Dead

My breath gives wing to written words that travel straight from me to you.

Dear Mom,

 

Those words are so, so foreign to me.

Forgive me if I regret the loss.

Two felled branches from the same tree,

it was destined that our paths would cross.

I know you were tethered to a cloud,

suspended between heaven and hell,

broken inside but so sweetly proud.

It is a story that I know well.

 

Leaves are falling, absolving your pain.

The land is awash in rustic tones.

I hear the pitter-patters of rain

as it runs a bath to bathe your bones.

I know how you tired, eager to fall

like a bird wounded without a nest

where none could touch you, no one at all.

Sweet arms of death have given you rest.

 

The house is bare and whispers no more.

The ghost of memories haunts me now.

I blow out the past, unlatch the door,

bid you leave me though I don’t know how.

Curtains are drawn; a link has been torn.

I wish you the love you never gave,

wish you the wish I’d never been born,

if it would raise you from out the grave.

 

The end is bitter; the end is sweet.

The end is leafing in autumn veins.

The end is where we shall once more meet

if there is a god who so ordains.

I wish you the softest, deepest rest;

the quiet poignance of sleeping sound;

a host of good, beautifully blessed,

as you lie sleeping in hallowed ground.

 

Dear Dad,

 

I weep for having never known you.

You left too soon I am sad to say.

I know that mom was wrong and untrue,

and you decided to walk away.

You took your life and left me behind,

shattered my soul for all of these years.

You broke my heart and troubled my mind.

I am a water well filled with tears.

 

You were twenty-three, and I was four!

I have no memories of your face.

Ten days before Christmas, the front door

closed behind you with no tracks nor trace.

You drove like the wind into that tree,

snapping your neck like a thirsty twig,

left me fatherless, ever to be

an empty vessel, a whirligig.

 

I have no sense of where I belong.

I am deep rooted in ghosts and grief.

I love the most those who did me wrong,

who stole sweet happiness like a thief.

I cannot tell you the emptiness,

the grey-eyed mourning of flesh and bone,

the desolation of nothingness,

the unmarked grave where you slept alone.

 

I will never get to dance with you.

We ended before we had a start;

and when my life is over and through,

you will remain inside of my heart.

My signature proudly sings your name

though no children will ever wear it.

We are one blood, eternal, the same.

I am your daughter.  Yes.  I swear it.

 

Dear Mom & Dad,

 

I will always be your little girl,

your epitaph written in spirit,

a speck in the spectrum of a pearl,

a tiny voice if you can hear it.

I gather bright stars and blackest night,

let them flow from the tip of my pen,

harvest my heart into rays of light

shining ever and ever, Amen!    

Author's Note

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest Linda Marie.. I also live in Virginia by the Rappahannock River. My story is quite similar to yours in many ways. My father’s Lover put him in an unmarked Grave. I placed Snap Dragons in many Colors on his Grave. He loved Shakespeare and had a Breakdown studying Religion… hence there is a Deepness in me to this day. I understand your Grieving. My Mother was seventeen when she gave Birth to me. She passed at fifty-eight of Cancer. I am Aging for both She and myself… Gracefully I believe… tenderly, Pat

[softlyfall]

hug hug hug hug hug

[Patricia Wedel]

You have tugged at my 💜 May your days be blessed… softly, Pat

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Patricia. Thankfully, I was able to purchase a marker for his grave. Once I found it in that state, there was no way that I could leave it that way. It was really the only thing that I could do for him. It's sad that any child should ever know such suffering. I am sorry that you went through much the same. Best wishes, Linda.

[.]

This is a generous poem of forgiveness, Linda. It takes a brave soul to be willing to forgive and continue to express love for those who have wronged them, no matter the relation. I can relate to at least half of your poem and I don't have that same level of forgiveness or affection. We are all wired differently, I suppose.

Your poem flows well from beginning to end and it's imagery is at times both haunting and spiritual. Whatever their circumstances in life, they are together in the end and with your love and blessing.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

No, we aren't so different after all. I have shared your feelings but have moved past them. I really endeavor to try to understand. While I don't understand everything, I can merely let go and let God. We all wrestle with our own demons. I have certainly had my share.

[Ayvid N]

This poem is such an outpouring of love, sorrow and the regret of what could have been, had things gone right for the child. This poem also speaks to me of an unconditional love that a child has for her parents regardless of a childhood robbed or the loneliness and despair their actions may have brought for her.
To be able to overlook her own pain and still feel such love, speaks to me of a truly beautiful and self-less soul.
You have superbly expressed these emotions line by line, verse by verse and with some stunning imagery that had me delighted and awed at once. My heartfelt compliments on this poem!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Divya. It has been a journey to get to this place in my life, and it hasn't been easy. It's not something for which I deserve any credit. It just is.

[Ayvid N]

You are welcome. Have a wonderful day.

[John the Baptist]

One parent taken away by premature death, another devastated by it. There is a lot of pain wrapped up in these well rhymed lines. The speaker looks back on these tragedies with anguish, but also with understanding. Sometimes the only way to deal with pain is to write about it.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The only way through it is to get through it. No matter how old I get, it never goes away. My search for understanding never wanes. I just hope they are both at peace. Thank you for reading. I'm always pleased to see a fellow Virginian. I would love to get to meet you some day.

[John the Baptist]

I live in Suffolk, in the Hampton Roads area. How about yourself?

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I live near Lynchburg. Wow! You are over three hours away. I didn't realize Suffolk was that far. I have never been there before. Are the close to the beach?

[John the Baptist]

About 35 miles, much of it expressway. I can get there quickly, provided the traffic is reasonable, which it isn't at times.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

ps
I wish I had that painting on my wall....it is both eerie and beautiful at the same time.
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I agree. I have always loved ravens and the notion that they are messengers between the living and the dead. I have one right above and to the left of my desk that I purchased from Design Toscano. It gives me inspiration.
https://www.designtoscano.com/products/the-ravens-perch-wall-sculpture-ng34872?epik=dj0yJnU9clFDWlhJX2ZJR3dsQjZXLURZbWVGYVJJUlBVOEhidGImcD0wJm49bXhzNjFlbnRTdjdCVER5YU12RXhSUSZ0PUFBQUFBR05vVjNn

[jacob erin-cilberto]

regardless of what goes on between parents...we are always their sons or daughters...the blood is never erased, can't be.
I did not have a broken home, parents married for 70 years...but in many ways, I can relate to this piece
so much, feeling the emotion of having lost both of my folks some years back...and still feeling the broken heart from that loss. I like how the last stanza brings them back together from the speaker's perspective.
j.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Jacob. I'm glad you were blessed with your parents.