"Will you write a poem for me when I die?" my mother asked, "like you did for Arne and Kathleen."
In a dream last night you came to me, as did this poem and I thought you had died until a middle of the night phone call confirmed you were still alive, well and had already gone to work.
The truth and emotion of the experience was too great for me to return to sleep, so I got up and wrote this poem.
We pay tribute to individuals after they leave this world but I decided then to give you this tribute poem while you still breathe and walk this earth in solid form. So you can read it for yourself. So you will know your importance in my life. So you will know how much I love you Mom.
This Hollow Emptiness In My Soul
For Hazel 01/06/1926 to
At a time like this I want to write
about the joy of your life and not my pain.
I want everyone to share your wisdom,
hear your laughter, know your devotion to Jehovah,
but all I feel is sorrow and devastation.
I want to share stories of our closeness,
the things that came between us and kept us apart.
The things that seemed like uncrossable chasms then,
disappear now in the light of your death.
I want everyone to know how hard you worked
to keep a solid roof over our heads, to feed us,
to care for us when no one was there to care for you.
I want the world to read the words you wrote to me
in the time of my deepest grief and despair.
How you helped me when I had no one else to turn to.
About all the times you held me and said to me “everything
will be okay,” and it always was.
Who will write to me now? Who will be there to shoulder
my tears, to bring calm to an aching heart? Who is left
to tell me they love me and mean it, like I know you did?
Who will I call when overwhelming grief or joy
bubbles up in the heart of this life you created?
You taught me from birth I was different from
but not less than, equal to, but not better than anyone else.
You raised me to be independent, even from you.
To make it on my own and I did and I will.
There is no one on this earth who can replace you.
There remains only this hollow emptiness in my soul.
Photo Credit: Phenomenal Woman, My Mom. Circa 1980.