The Thirst

How our passions command our souls!

Original photograph by Tomasz Sienicki (tsca).  This work has been released into the public domain by its author, tsca. This applies worldwide. In some countries this may not be legally possible; if so: tsca grants anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law. The original photograph can be seen at  http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/57/Hospital_room_ubt.jpeg

Dear Readers,

This is not a factual account of my aunt's last days. I was not there in the end. It was Charlotte, my aunt's daughter, that came through, and was such a boon to my aunt and uncle. Thanks, Charlotte, you were such a champ. Everyone counted on you, and you did not disappoint.

This poem presented itself to me without conscious thought. I was consumed in the gravity of another loss in the family, and then I felt the whole of human existence and the weight of our wants and desires.  Our desires were being so defeated in the loss of a precious family member.  But want goes so much beyond that. It is a thirst that we mere mortals can't quench. Some of these wants are noble, but the majority are petty and crude--okay, well at least not noble. Man's whole existence is filled with want, with a thirst that can't be satisfied, be it desire for more life, riches, fame, or whatever. We thirst. And this is especially apropos as Oppie was denied water in the end by the hospice nurses as this was to be the end.  They kept her comfortable, but she died of her thirst, just as we all die a bit each day from our thirsts.

Rick

The Thirst

     "Death of an aunt, my mother's sister, an unforgetable presence in my life."

As she lay dying in the night

My spirit rose with second sight

And saw Man’s thirsts hung in the air

Such hungry things--black with despair

I moved through them--

I heard them growl

They tore my flesh

Threw back their cowls

Exposed sharp teeth

And flashed wild eyes

With fear I shook--

In horror cried!

 

But calm returned to ‘ darkened room

I heard her breathe--that will end soon

In silence cloaked, soft in the night

I sat awaiting morning's light

 

For that will be another day

Through which we must hold thirst at bay

I want to cry, but do not dare

I can’t shed tears--won't feed despair

 

She died that evening from her thirst

No water given by the nurse

She passed in peace without a sound

The drugs were kind, they say they've found

 

But we are left here with our thirsts

Unruly passions--how we’re cursed!

And now Life’s taken her away

Another thirst instilled this day

 

And my life stretches out so long

Another night, another dawn

Another want, another fear

Another loss, another tear

 

Until one day thirst is denied

And we’re released from our vain pride

No cares to claw, fierce on our heart

A day of peace, a time to stop

 

 

 

© 2013 Richard Puetter

All rights reserved

We miss you, Oppie (Alberta Jeeninga Marshal), and we feel for you, Bill. She cannot be replaced. Our deepest condolences. We miss her so much.

© 2013 The Marshal Family, the Puetter Family, the Jeeninga Family, the Beckman Family, together and individually -- All rights reserved

© 2013 The Marshal Family, the Puetter Family, the Jeeninga Family, the Beckman Family, together and individually -- All rights reserved

 

Reviews

[Data]

Aye, 'tis true, the thirst for life is potent.
From her pictures and what you write, Rick, Oppie looks like a kind and beautiful woman; I hope she had the opportunity to drink long and deep of life.
On that last day when thirst unquenched, as you say, "A day of peace"
There's a kind of darkness, I suspect borne of grief, in the poem, but with the notes and pictures included this is a beautiful tribute for a person you, patently, cared for deeply.
Phil.

[Chris Shaw]

I read once yesterday and have returned to read for the second time today, and to also look at the photographs posted of your much loved aunt. The loss and all she meant to you, so movingly conveyed here in this fine tribute. Your first stanza a remarkable account of your emotions as you cope with the inevitable. Loss is difficult enough anyway but faced with a cruel death, and dementia and related diseases are so terribly cruel, can make the whole process almost unbearable. This write is deeply felt because I lost my own mum at the beginning of February in similar circumstances. Fortunately for me, she did know who I was until she lost consciousness over the last few days. Thank you for the link Rick, a privilege to read your work.

Chris

[KWP]

I love the photos. Nice touch. From this experience your Oppie moved into the next.
I always read rhyming poetry at a quicker pace - I wonder if that is because of the Australian Poetry I learnt as a kid? And somehow reading this fast takes away from the depth of the piece. I wonder if this was written in free verse how that would make the poem feel?

We are left with our thirsts - do you meditate? Equanimity will ease those thirsts certainly not easy though.

What a lovely tribute to your lovely aunt X

[Nolo Segundo]

Another one of your poems with power, Rick, and like "I Am Penthos', it reflects the power of grief with the force of a lion roaring in the darkest night.
The last words my mother spoke to me before she died were "Love never goes away." I think she meant it literally, for love cannot perish, anymore than the soul can.

[Kay]

This is a beautiful piece and sentiment for the loss of your loved one. I lost my aunt last night, so this piece resonates with me. Well done!

[Devons]

This delves into the psyche disturbing incomprehensible, unknown monsters of the soul of existence. And they question, by their appearance, the futility of that existence. A horribly unanswerable inquiry that is a monster in itself, and one found in chaos of understanding. Whatever happens in life, death somehow always negates - unless we can discover or calculate something beyond existence itself as we know it. Perhaps we are here to find that, it's possible - though desperately unknowable, it seems.
This piece is a fascinating exploration of that theme, and expressed with intelligent emotional candour.

[Roland Petrov]

The final word of one of my favorite authors, Nikos Kazantzakis, was "water". We actually do die of thirst, but if the natural process is allowed to take place, the body really doesn't need the fluid anymore. I currently work as a care provider, often in hospice settings. I'm in awe of how the body shuts itself down allowing a peaceful exit for the inhabitant. I read this in your last verse.

[Zahra]

Until one day thirst is denied
And we’re released from our vain pride
No cares to claw, fierce on our heart
A day of peace, a time to stop

This is really beautiful and touching. Lost my father last year, loved ones can never be replaced.

[Shaquana Adams]

This is a truly moving and heartfelt piece. I'm sorry for you loss.
-QuanaWana

[shutbudholdsabee]

This is insightful and your meter is perfect. Flawless syllable count and flow. Hats off to the master, you practice what you preach. Great poem!