Truth in Haiku

I am writing this post as a sort of apology to our blog 'hommies'.  Some of you, over the past year or so have sent e-mails or left comments asking if all was right in my world. It seems you noticed a change in  my posts or my lack of posts. All of you sent offers of comfort or help. So endearing of you all. Thank you.


Last year when I was in the throes of cleaning closets and doing laundry my  mother was dying.
I was not there. Nor was I here. I was in some strange limbo  keenly aware of her imminent departure and torn between honoring her preferences or succumbing to my own. Her dying was a slow, relentless march. Not a swift crossing.  There were numerous times in the years preceding  her death where I hopped a plane or drove  like a maniac to get there " in time".  There were miracles and gratitude. Then the devastating  reality I would again have to leave her because she lives there and I live here. Impossible to stay, impossible to go.

In our last visit, a few weeks before her death, we both knew she was out of miracles. There had been a crisis, there would be more until the last one. Before her final day came I had to  come back here. I dreaded leaving her for a minute. But. We both knew I had to. On the day I was to  leave I sat for a while outside trying to summon strength to give my mother a fine farewell. I tried to think how I would feel if I knew I would  be saying good bye to my child forever. I buckled at the thought.  Yet I knew this parting would be harder for her than for me because while I had to find the strength of character to say good bye to one person I love so dearly ... my mother had to  suffer the agony of saying good bye to all of us.  She was weary. I knew this.  We said all the good things there was to say.  I left knowing she wished to  be spared of repeating this goodbye. I left knowing she wished for me to be spared the vision of her in death.  I left knowing I would never see her again. I wailed like a baby the minute I cleared the building. I shrieked and howled  and raged and wept and kept my promise. To drive  away.  To leave my mother to die without me.

 My truth is I do not have the acceptance of Karl, the grit of Chickory, the openess of Boxer or the grace of Aunty ... all of whom were able to share their losses  and accept the prayers of this blog family. I did not share because the loss was too huge, the vulnerabilities too numerous, my control  far too fragile. I could not bring myself to speak of this loss. When friends asked after her I gave the same answer I had been giving for years, " She is in God's hands". I could not speak of other realities.  I could not expose my grief for fear of collapse.

But there  are Haiku Mondays.
In this venue, over time, on various blog sites,  I think I have been speaking  of my loss.

Today's haiku is this:

I hung a wind chime
in the tree by Mama's grave
Love! Whisper'd in chime

( I actually did this )

On other Mondays I had written these:

Furious rain pelts
my anguish ...cleansing my grief
joy crests in my soul

( Mermaid took me to a beach to cry out my grief)

Moonlight silver hair
halos my mother's beauty.
Soft. Like Angel 's wing.

( My mother did indeed have moonlight hair)

Her exquisite face
fills the dreams of seven men
Sleeping beauty death

( husband, son, sons in law, grandsons = 7
She died in her sleep )

There is no warmth in
touching cold unyielding flesh.
Yet I am sustained.

( An angel statue )

One A.M.  cell tweet
Awakens heart pounding fear.
Oh God! Keep her close.

(the messengers call)

Bagpipers lament
announces life's last vict'ry
Celebrate her joy!

( It was a beautiful funeral)


Thank you all for your friendship.
I am grateful.