(all poems here — other than “watching my father die” and “my mothermy mothermy mother” — were in a chapbook after the Kuypers family discovered Janet’s mothers’s cancer.)

    (all poems here were written after the Kuypers family found out Kuypers’ mother had leukemia, after surviving breast cancer and cervical cancer. The “letter to mom” was something Janet Kuypers decided to do, to write something to her mother before she passed away, to remind them of the good times they have had because of her. The last four poems in this part were written the day her mother passed away.)

cocktail hour

I remember when I was little
when dad would come home
from work, mom would always
have two gin martinis ready
for them. She’d put the glasses
in the freezer, with ice cubes
in them, an hour before he was
due home. That was their time
to sit together, talk about their
day.
Sometimes they’d joke, is it
cocktail hour yet?, and they’d
look at the time, 4:55, close
enough.
So little vermouth that some-
times they’d pour a capful of
vermouth in, swirl it around
in the glass with the ice cubes,
then pour the extra vermouth
out.
I never liked gin; the smell is
too strong. But I always think
of the end of the day when I
smell a martini.
And at restaurants, too, dad
would always order for them.
two dry martinis, on the rocks,
with a twist. You know, some
things just flow off your
tongue when you’ve heard them
said enough. two dry martinis,
on the rocks, with a twist.

decorating the palm trees

my mother
always started trends
in our neighborhood

take christmas,
for example:

one christmas
in addition to decorating
the tree we had inside,
she took italian lights

and strung them along
each branch of the
palm tree in front of
our house

dad even put me in the
bucket of the tractor
so i could reach

next year,
a few more houses with
palm trees decorated

the year after,
more than half the houses

then she bought
ornaments for her tree,
big, round,
foot-wide
ornaments

next year,
a few more houses
had ornaments

the year after,
more than half the houses

my mother
was always the first

especially at breakfast

mom was always cooking things, eating the
strangest things, especially at breakfast.
some mornings, felling especially groggy, i’d
walk down the stairs to find mom eating a
plate of cold pigs’ feet. only my mother.

cry for me

she never like to see her daughter cry
it would make her cry too

“you go in there, talk to her”
she would say to another daughter

i remember once
crying at my father
and running upstairs to my bedroom
i was laying on my bed in the dark

my sister tried to come in
i told her to leave me alone

then my mother knocked
and i couldn’t tell her to go away

she came in, sat on the bed
started crying
“you see, i always turn into a mess”

but it was nice
to see you cry
for me

have a party

if there was ever a time
when all the kids were
going to be out for the
evening, and dad was going
somewhere, too, and mom
would end up alone in the
house for a while, she
would say that she was
going to have a party while
everyone was gone, and
she’d smile

let’s go

One summer day in August, I was
sixteen at the time, Sandy and I
were in the house, it was an
average Thursday, mom was out
golfing, dad was at Bob’s form
yard, doing something man-like,
cutting wood or something. The
cleaning lady was at the house,
I was getting ready for a summer
job interview that morning.
The phone rings, I answer it,
suddenly there’s this strange voice
on the other line talking, asking,
“Is your mother there?”
and my first instinct was that it
was Greg on the other line, a friend
of dad’s, he always liked to put on
a fake voice and try to fool the
kids. So I put on my most cordial
voice and said, “No she’s not, may
I take a message?”
and then the voice starts going on
about how he’s cut his finger and
he has to go to the hospital, and
then it finally occurs to me that
it’s my father, and he was in
so much pain that he could barely
speak. So he hangs up the phone
and Sandy and I try to call the
golf course, hoping to catch mom,
but she already left, and while
we waited for her to come home
dad came home to get us and
bring us to the hospital with him.
His hand was wrapped in a shirt,
half-soaked in blood. Sandy got
in the wagon, but she told me
to wait at home for mom. So dad
whipped the car out of the drive-
way and down the road, And I stood
in the driveway, watching him
drive away.
I was so distraught, I started to
cry, but I had to keep myself
together, because I didn’t want
to make it sound serious when I
told her and make her more nervous.
I didn’t want her to cry, he cut
his finger, he’d need stitches,
but he wasn’t going to die.
So I waited at the front window,
and when I saw her car drive down
the road I went to the garage.
When she pulled in I hopped in
the passenger side before she
turned off the engine. “Come on,
let’s go,” I said, with a smile on
my face.
I tried to preface the story with
“Let me just say, that everything
is fine,” but you just know when
bad news is coming up. But I tried
to make it sound funny, like dad
the klutz cut his hand.
I hope I did a good job. For eleven
blocks I was the one that had to
make sure that everything was
okay. I hope I did a good job.

musical

she never wanted to sing,
dad was the one that was more musical,
i guess, she always said she
sounded just awful, and dad even
agreed. he’d make a humorous threat,
like, be careful, or i’ll make mom sing.
but one thing mom was always
musical at was yawning,
i think she could hum a song while
she yawned. usually, though, she
would just start her yawn with a
high pitch, then change key by key
for five or six notes. the most unique
yawn i’ve ever heard. sometimes
we’d all just be quiet watching
television and out would come one
of mother’s original scores. it would
always make one of us smile.

picking my friends

poker face

she’d draw a card,
one she evidently wanted

look at it down her bifocals
raise her eyebrows

“ooh, ooh, ooh!!”
she’d say

we all knew then
we should fold

that dress

both years i went to prom
you made me my dress
the first, pink and mauve

i looked like a parade float,
i think

the next year,
something a bit more
dramatic
i wanted black with a touch of ivory,
you convinced me to have
ivory with a touch of black

you made a dress
with a fitted jacket

i could take the jacket off
wear a pair of long dress gloves

you know,
you never liked having
your picture taken
mom

but i’ll always keep
the photo taken just before
my prom night
of the two of us

i’m leaning my head
on your shoulder

i loved that dress

squid

once i was sitting in the living room,
i just got home from school, and i
said i need to go wash my hands. so i
walked upstairs, went over to the
kitchen sink. mom, sitting in the living
room, didn’t mention that the sink
was half-full of raw squid for her dinner.
I shriek. mom laughs.
“are their beady little eyes looking
up at you?” she asked.
the little devil. i’m upstairs, in the
kitchen, shrieking, and she’s laughing.

the missing onion

To this day, whenever we
remember something, we say,
“It’s coming to me,” and laugh.

you’ll like them

“do they taste just like peanuts?” i asked.
they were soft and mushy. nothing like
peanuts. nothing at all.

changing the locks

and when one was leaving
mom would joke around
and say

she was going to change
the locks
or mom and dad were going
to move away
and leave no
forwarding address

they never did that, though
they were always there

joe putz-a-vucki

well he called the house one night
and my father was out with the boys
and so my mother decided to play a trick

she told ed "my husband is out
with ed kazinski
and he won’t be home for a while"

and ed stuttered, tried to make an excuse
cover up for my father
and said, "uh, well, tell him
joe putz-a-vucki called"
and he quickly hung up
the telephone
thought my mother didn’t know his voice

later he told my father
he coveredupfor him
and my father said, my wife knows

your stuttering voice, silly
everybody can recognize your voice
she was justplaying a joke

and by the way
who is joe putz-a-vucki

ed told my father
that putz-a-vucki was polish
for "under the sidewalk"
and it was just
what came out
of his mouth
when he didn’t have time
to think

perfect

and i thought,
i don’t know what i want
for dinner
tonight, or even if i want
to eat, much less
what i want for dinner
two days from now

i wanted to tell her
to relax,
not to worry about me,
and i thought,
there she goes again
making sure
everything is perfect

tuesday nights

watching people play

more than stories

your grandchildren come over now
my nieces, nephews
excited to see grandma

you give them a treat
before they leave
candies, cookies

they’re not pickles
but they remind me
of my grandmother

the stories i’d hear
about how good she was

i love her now
without ever seeing her face

but you see,
these kids
claire, marshall, joel, edward
your grandchildren

they get to see you
they get to spend time with you
they have more than
stories

they know your face
they know your voice

they love you now

but remember
they’ll always love you
they’ll always remember

they’ll always love you

Watching My Father Die

after six years of pampering
and caring for him
we wondered how long this was going

to last. Not that we wanted
him to leave us, of course,
but did the doctor know what he was

talking about? but then
his condition started getting
worse, in the last two weeks especially, and

I just saw him in so much
pain I didn’t know what to
do. After seeing him in so much pain, after

these two weeks, one night I
even prayed for his death to
come. Just to save him. Just to make his

pain go away. And the next
day, he was dead. After all
that time, the pain was over. Just like that.

My motherMy motherMy mother

We went to see my mother this weekend. You see,
my mother has cancer, and we decided to go
across the country for a weekend to surprise her
and see how she was doing. it was breast cancer,
so it really was the best case scenario, i suppose,
so i managed to put it out of my mind until we actually
had to fly there

The night before i couldn’t bring myself to pack. it was
two in the morning when i finally pulled my suitcase out
from the pantry shelf.

i kept telling people at work, “well, you see, I have to go
visit my mother because she has cancer, so I have to
miss a few days of work,” but I was always able to
say it so matter-of-factly until I had to actually
visit her

In fact, when my sister told me the diagnosis, it
was right around Christmas time, and there was so much
work to do and I still had presents to wrap and a
meal to prepare and Christmas was supposed to be a
happy time

that I managed to postpone even thinking about it until
we all decided to surprise her for a visit. And then I
had to pack. To decide what to take, what to leave
behind, put my life into a little black box with a handle
and wheels, and go

It shouldn’t be this way, and I knew that, I knew that I
shouldn’t be visiting my mother under these circumstances
and I knew how she never wants to think about bad things
because they always make her cry and this would make her
want to cry and cry because the only reason why we’re
there is because things are bad

But I wasn’t supposed to think that way, things would be
just fine.

So I finished packing at four in the morning and the next
thing I remember is I was on the plane with my sisters,
cracking jokes as we picked up the rental car. and then we
got to mom and dad’s house

and everyone was so happy to see each other, it was
one big family reunion and we were laughing and talking
and trying to figure out where we were all going
to sleep

and the sisters and dad walked into the front room to
see if the couches were good enough to sleep on or if we
would have to get out an air mattress and I was alone
in the den with mom

so I suddenly became serious and sat down next to her
and asked her how she was really doing. And that is when
she started to cry, saying that the cancer spread, but
what she was most concerned with was the fact that she
didn’t want to spoil the time that we came to visit her.
But what I don’t think she understood was that we couldn’t
have come at a better time, and nothing she could do would
spoil our trip.

Brother, and Sister, and Father of Mine

brother, and sister, and father of mine
keep us together, ad keep us in line
a lot we depend on, a lot we can do
send love to mother, I’ll be good to you
- Andy Bell, Erasure, ~1988

So I listened to a record I owned
years ago,
and I was telling my husband
that this one song
always made me cry
I didn’t tell him
it was because
I always felt out of place
in my family
I didn’t tell him
it was because
I was always the odd one out
that I always felt out of place

I didn’t bother telling him that
because who wants to hear those details anyway

right?

well, not like this matters
this is normal for us,
but he was sleeping
when I was listening to music
when I told him
(while he was awake)
that song a lways made me cry

so much for piquing someone’s interest
when my mother is dying

so I listened to these words
and I can’t remember why they made me cry
other than they might have reminded me
of how much I hated everything
and had no one to turn to

and still don’t

but I heard that song tonight
and I had to play it again
while he was still sleeping
because it took on a new meaning today
because i have to send love to mpther
who is so far away
(I guess that’s how she always has been)
but I’ll be good to you

I’m always the last one out in this family
I’m the forgotten one
I don’t want to be too much of a burden
but I’ll be there
when you die

only if you want me to

Death Sentence

after appeals, her sentence was finally set
but because of her “good behavior”
when they gave her the death sentence

she had the right to decide when her death would come.
Not if she’d die, not how she’d die,
those aren’t her choices

but this court thought they would be nice
and at least let her decide how quickly
she wanted to go

and you know, they set it all up in court
everyone there was wearing their lab coats,
looking very professional

and everyone at the court thought she was
the nicest woman possible
(but, we all thought that outside of the court too)

and you know, they could be nice to her there
but she’s been handed a death sentence
without anything ever being he fault

she’s not guilty, of whatever you think, she’s not guilty

so giving her the right to decide when to dis
is not a gift everyone who is committing a crime
is allowed in this abomination

and you can call yourselves a court
but I know it is like my mother has been tortured
in her Lithuanian gulag concentration camp

post World War II
and now you give her the right to decide when to die
how good of you

so now we, like death sentence protesters,
want to fight against this sentence
want to protest, want to make change

but we know we’re pounding our little fists
at closed and dead-bolted doors
and we doubt anyone can hear our pleas

so thank you, whoever the Hell you are
for giving my mother the right
to decide when to die

even though the rest of us aren’t ready
to decide is she should die
at least now, lucky for us, she chooses

that the torture in her concentration camp
can finally stop, even if freeing herself
means her death

If She’s There

and I told her that I’ll visit her
maybe in July, after she gets there
and she replies

If I’m there

and you know, under normal circumstances
she could say that because, who knows,
they might go to Tunica

to gamble for a weekend or something
but no, if she might be out of town
she’d say so

so just hearing her say &147;if I’m there”
was just one of the infinite number of ways
it hits home

if she’s there, she says

I know I’m planning to see her because she’s dying
I know our lives are turned upside-down
because she’s dying

but every little thing said now, no matter
how innocuous, is like another
nail in her coffin

and I can’t pull those nail out
I would if I could, I’d scrape my fingers raw
I’d bleed a river

but I can’t get my fingertips under
those nail heads
and I have to sit here

and let time tick by, until the inevitable
while the tears continue to cry a river

tick, tock, tick, tock

Listening to the Cancer Ads

now, I know she had cancer before
breast cancer, cervical cancer
and after the surgery and after the chemo
she got a clean bill of health
and now she’s got leukemia
cancer in the blood, not in a tumor
so there’s no one spot to attack

but every time I hear a cancer ad
my ears perk up, like a Pavlovian dog
it’s like someone’s just rang a bell
and it makes me listen attentively

I know it doesn’t make a difference
I think she was at one of the best hospitals
but I hear about these research places
and wonder if there are slivers of hope

but as I said, I know it’s irrelevant
she’s already gone through two types of chemo
and I know she’s decided to stop the treatment
so I know there’s no point in new therapy

but I still can’t help it
I still am forced to respond to these ads
like some sort of stupid Pavlovian dog
I hear these ads that are supposed to mean

nothing to me

still, I listen

I’m Tired

and I’m getting used to hearing that now

and I know she’s older
and I know that she doesn’t have the energy
she used to

I never tried to tax her before
to make her do too much
because my mother was older

and

and after the first round of chemo
she was in remission
and I went to visit her for weeks
and she still woke up at five am every day
and she ran errands in the morning
and she started to slow cooking her her foods
and she did her laundry
and by noon
she was getting tired

good thing that’s when the soap operas started
then she could sit back and watch tee vee

because she read the newspaper before eight am
and she took care of her work for the day
before noon

so yes, after the chemo
during her recovery
she’d get tired
but everyone understood that
she just went through so many rounds of chemo
for her leukemia
it’ll take forever to fully recover
from the radiation
even though she’s in remission

but she’s a strong lady
just give her some time
she’ll get over this hurdle too

and then she started feeling tired all the time
and then feverish
and she went to the doctor
and they said they were wrong
she wasn’t in remission
how silly of them, to miss that

so how about a hospice?
because all hope is lost now

that’s what they told her
and she went to dad
and the said
let’s go back right now
to the good hospital
and they’ll take care of her again
and really make everything better this time

and that’s the first time
I started hearing from mom
that she really just didn’t want
to be in the hospital any more

and I’d hear my sister say
that she said the bed was really uncomfortable

stop complaining, mom
this will make everything better
you said so

and after the second round of the chemo
don’t worry, it’s a different chemical this time
so she wouldn’t lose her hair
which is now coming back curly
just as she wanted
but after the second round of the chemo
they said it wasn’t working this time
she wasn’t in remission
so

so she had two options

and I’m trying to figure out right now
who hurts more from her decision
her or us

but I hear it now more than ever from her
that she’s tired
but that’s to be expected
her platelets are low
and she’ll need to get more blood in a day or two
and her body keeps telling her
with terrifying diligence
that she should be tired

she’s trying to heal herself now
you know, because the chemicals can’t do it
and I ask her after noon how she’s doing
and she said she’s tired
but then she explains
that she did three loads of laundry this morning
and she took a shower
justifying her being tired to me

and I come to visit her
and she just took a shower after waking up
but she didn’t get a chance to take a nap yesterday
so even though it’s morning
she falls asleep on the couch in the morning
while I visit

so I just have to keep telling myself
that she’s tired for a reason
she’s fighting the hardest battle of her entire life
and

and she’ll eventually lose

that’s hard for me to say, you know
because we come from a hearty stock
she shouldn’t eventually lose
she shouldn’t

and neither should we

Mommy’s Not Leaving

he was so little when we got him
that he’d try to suckle
from a mole on our arm

well, we closed the bedroom to go to bed
on our first night home
and he’d run in

wanting to join us

so I’d get him out of the room
so we could sleep
and he would come knocking

at three thirty in the morning,
so dad took him out of the bedroom
for an hour

Zach came back to see me before five
so I let him in the bedroom,
and let him sit with me

he’d sit on my lap, then next to me
then lay down on my arm
then move onto my thumb

and let me fingers curl around him
like they were the shoes
from the Wicked Witch of the East

and dad said, he wants to come in
because he wants to check
to make sure mommy’s still here

and i said,
mommy’s not going, Zach
mommy’s not leaving

Life Can Slip Away

and after raising five Catholic kids
I thought they would have
wanted their corpses to be together
in their own little plots of land
for all of eternity

and wait a minute, is it a doctrine
or only superstition
that the Catholic church
says you’d go to Hell
if after death
your body didn’t remain in tact

but

she wants to be cremated.

and she hasn’t told my father.

& my sister wants to take some of her ashes
to make a half carat blue diamond
for herself.

you know, to have something of her
other than her ashes.

that’s not morbid.

I don’t know, maybe we could put
some of her ashes
into an hour glass
where her ashes become hermetically sealed
& the hour glass can be a constant reminder
of how life can slip away.

once again, morbid.

but how do you not get slap-happy
if you’ve been thinking about this
for too long
& you have to listen to
what will be dome with your mother’s body
after she dies

well, I’ve always said I use laughter
to cover grief.
I’m a real comedian.

Isn’t it funny?

Manic Depressive or Something

and I was about to write him back,
saying that I’m sure I’m younger than him
(because we only correspond by letter)
and my mother is seventy-five
and is dying
so

you don’t have it so bad
you mother’s still living
and

and that’s when I decided
not to write them back
I don’t like revealing
that much of my personal life, you know

isn’t that funny
I write, but I don’t want
to reveal that much of my personal life
I know I’m writing now
but I’m not writing to anyone
I’m just getting it out of my system

that happens to me now,
I’ll start to think about it
and it will bring me to tears
and than I’ll have to clean myself up
and I’ll have to readjust
to everyone else having a normal life

and I’ll go about my day
and anything can happen
that will remind me again
and I’ll fall apart
just a little more again
and I’ll clean myself up again
and

well, you get the idea

it’s like a cycle now
like I’m manic depressive or something
because when I forget about it
I can laugh and have a great time
and when I’m in those in-between stages
no one notices at the grocery store
that I’m losing my mother
I don’t let it on
I don’t act happy
I don’t act sad
I just live in that in-between time
until I remember again
and drop down again
and I’m depressive again
until the cycle lets me go back up

PDQ in Tin Foil

but when I was in grade school
kids could buy
for their school lunches

either cartons of milk
or cartons of chocolate milk

and I didn’t like milk,
mom’s the first to tell the story
that I refused my bottle at six months

so juice I had

but I loved chocolate,
and I love chocolate
so I always drank chocolate milk

but I told mom that the
chocolate milk from the school cartons
was too chocolately

it tasted almost like
the chocolate tasted granulated
it tasted too dark

and mom,
every day before school,
would put the chocolate

product PDQ
into a little container
of wrapped tin foil

in with what I needed for school
so I could mix PDQ
into a carton of regular milk

every day, so I could have
chocolate milk
just the way I wanted

Planting Palm Tree Seeds

you know, to help the environment,
to give birth to trees
marking the birth of his wedding

and I ordered baby trees to plant
and I told my mom about this:

and I mentioned the palm tree seeds
that grow in huge pods near her house

and I know a palm tree
won’t grow from seed in this climate

but she was coming back
to this part of the country again
for her second round of chemo
for her leukemia that won’t go away

and she actually got palm tree seeds
from the ground
and collected them in a plastic bag for me

you know, just for effect

we know they won’t live
but it was the sweetest thing
that you got these for me, mom

I kind of want to drill a hole
through one of the seeds
and wear it as a charm
something more to keep from you

and now I’ve got this bag of palm tree seeds
in my office now

that I am to plant to signify life
and

and

life, you signify life, mom
this is going to become my spiritual
struggle to find life, mom

my planting these seeds you gave me
that we both knew wouldn’t grow
but I’ll plant them anyway

She’s Made Her Choice

but it seems more like she’s resigned herself
because she’s lost the will to live now

she doesn’t want to get up
why should she? she thinks

and she’s been fighting this cancer like mad
she was feeling better

she was running errands, cooking
people were amazed at her recovery

and now the doctors tell her
chemo won’t work any more

and she doesn’t want to go back
to the hospitals

she’s tired of the fight
so she made her choice

but

but I know that people who fight
who want to live

they have a better chance
of lasting longer

mind over matter,
so to speak

and we come from a strong lot,
her and I

I almost died
and I fought like Hell

I wasn’t about to let them win
by killing me

and I told her that her father,
when the doctors gave him

six months to live
he lived to six years

and she fought cancer a decade ago
breast cancer, a radical hysterectomy

and she went to the doctor
for her annual check-up appointments

and she had a clean bill of health
she beat it this time

but then the doctors say it’s common
with her history

to get leukemia ten years later
because you see, that cancer

has to find another angle
to get you

I guess its nicer to call it leukemia
than cancer of the blood

but it figures, okay, they’ll just remove me
from the organ I attack

so i’ll go for the blood this time
can’t get rid of me then

so

so my mother has made this decision
this decision to die

no, wait, let me correct myself,
she’s resigned to die

and she’s letting her soul slip away,
I think

she’s choosing to let it go
and

and the rest of us aren’t ready
to lose her yet

but it looks like she’s decided
to just die, get it over with

and we want to see her more, we
want her to fight

damnit, that woman fought before
even with the leukemia

they said she was in recovery
and although she tired easily,

she was on her own for months,
doing well

because she thought the battle
was over, and she won again

but now they’ve told her the battle
isn’t won, but she has the choice

to keep trying, or to not fight it
well, she made her choice

I just wish she wouldn’t resign herself

death comes sooner that way

i don’t know if the pain
is too much for her

but I know when I almost died
I hurt like Hell,

but I fought like Hell, because
I’m a fighter, just like her

I’ve never had a fight I couldn’t win
so I’ve always fought

but I’ve never faced a fight to the death
but in a way, this kills me

knowing that someone so strong
just resigned

So Don’t Worry

I mean,
isn’t that what everyone’s afraid of —
when they’ll die?
how they’ll die?

I can’t claim to know,
but if you’ve led a long and full life,
if your work is done
and it’s time to relax,
and if you knew that you were going to die soon
and not wonder if you’re going to die,
say, by being hit by a car
or if you’d outlive
all your friends, the love of your life
I mean,
if you know when death is coming in advance
you could tie up all your loose ends
and say your proper good byes
to your loved ones

give everyone a chance to remind you
how much they love you
wouldn’t that make you feel so...
serene?
that you came to peace with everything
before you died

wouldn’t that be better?

I’m sure it would be nice,
because everyone around you
while you still lived
would do everything in their power for you,
and they’d make sure they appeared happy
on the outside for you
to cover up how losing you
would make them feel

don’t worry
this is your peaceful time
no one else will show their tears,
they don’t want to make you feel bad
so they’ll cry for you behind your back
for weeks,
for months
before you die
so they can cry again for you
for weeks,
for months
after you die
but you won’t have to see the tears
they’ll put on a happy face for you
they don’t want you to remember
them mourning you
before you even die

so don’t worry,
this is for the best
you’ve got it all figured out
before everyone who still lives
does

this isn’t fair

dying the bottom of my hair
bright red

and hey, I’m supposed to
go off any marry
one of my closest friends
in a few months
so I’m supposed to officiate a wedding
and celebrate with them,
and be able to party
and laugh

and then you have to throw this curve ball at me

this isn’t fair
this isn’t right
this is supposed to be a time to celebrate
to fly in the face of everything
and stick your tongue out
and say, so what, I can have fun

but

this isn’t fair of you, God

why do you make me work so hard
why do you change everything at the last minute

we’ve worked to stop this
we’ve done everything we could
we’ve done our damndest to stop this
we’ve done our damndest to stop you

stop flexing your muscles
stop proving us wrong

I’ve tried to figure you out
and you’re not playing fair

###

what does your God do
when you feel like you have it all
I’ve learned that God doesn’t kill you
it just drops you
and says,
you’ve had it all figured out before
what do you do now?

well, you’re killing her
and leaving me wondering how to pick up the pieces
and how to fly in the face of everything
despite everything

We’re Trying

So I tell people that I’ve have a lot on my plate recently,
and I may say as much as
I’ve just heard some terrible family news
and I try to leave it at that.

But every time I tell someone
something like this,
I always get the same reply:

“Sorry about family news,
I hope not too serious and that it gets better soon.”

or

“I hope that week of bad news
gets followed by a week of good.”

And these well-wishers mean well,
I understand that,
but every time I get a response like this
I want to just fall apart
because no,
there won’t be any “week” of good news,
and yes, it is serious,
far too serious,
and no, it won’t get better soon,
it will only get worse
much, much worse
and I can’t respond to these people,
I have to just bottle it all up
and think, well, they’re trying,
it’s not enough sometimes for some of us,
but we’re trying.

    I’ve always thought that I’m more like Dad, I host parties, I’m the conversationalist, I’m stubborn and strong-willed. But he gave up music (from when he played the trombone in high school), and he gave up photography (when he used to take and develop black and white pictures, like I did in college) and his love of shoot ‘em up movies when he’s not even concerned about the plot (I usually go to watch maybe one movie a year, if I’m lucky), well, some of his characteristics are not like me. And I look at you and Sandy, doing your crossword puzzles and talking so much, and on the surface I wonder how I don’t fit in so well with you. But I have to think about it, the more I realize that yes, I’m like Dad in a lot of ways, deep down I hope I have the qualities of you.
    What do I fill my days with? Running literary magazines and publishing other people’s writing and artwork in magazines, books and CDs (which they are thrilled with). I’ll release stuff of mine at the same time, but not much, and I do these publications for other people. In the next issue of cc&d, I’m printing 24 other people’s writing, and artwork from 11 other people. In the other magazine (that I’m the editor of under a fake name), I never ever publish any of my own work in it until this year (the magazine’s 6^th year). I feel stupid talking about my magazines, but I’m trying to say that I do these things for other people, which John reminds me is like you.
    But wait... John knows I don’t think I’m like you and Sandy so much, and he says that we are alike in some ways... That I keep silk flowers and fake greens around the house in decorations like you do, and I supposed he’s right (that and I seem to have a greenhouse-worth of plants in the house now, though some didn’t fare well from the bad weather when we left them outside because we were out of town for two weeks). And although I don’t do crossword puzzles, John and I were doing Sudoku (the number puzzle in a box of 9 squares), I was playing that like mad (Sandy was talking about it, how she gets into that too), and two nights ago we were out, and Wheel of Fortune was playing on their television (and no, I never watch the show), but I got two of the puzzles before John (one of them was a puzzle that asked a question and you’d get a bonus if you answered the question, and I got that right), and I just couldn’t believe I was actually watching and interacting so much with the game show you’ve watched for so many years. So who knows, maybe I am more like you than I’m aware of...
    My friend Brian (one of the guitarists from Mom’s Favorite Vase, a friend since college), is the first one to tell me that I’m cheap. It doesn’t bother me, though ‰?? because my being stingy has allowed me more than most of my friends... I was able to travel and save money while I was working in Chicago because I chose to live in a neighborhood that people didn’t flock to (therefore it cost less) ‰?? I could find parking, and my rent was cheaper. And although it sounds like a strange trait, I’m sure I get that from you (saving money away from dad so there would be money for kid’s schooling, for example, when dad thinks with that money he could buy a boat). So fine, call me frugal. It allows me to live debt free, and I think it’s a wonderful trait to have, to not worry about money because you spend wisely.
    Even John finds my frugality irritating ‰?? but it’s when I do things like say I won’t to a bar with a cover charge (but I’m sorry, I’m not paying $10 or $15 just to go into a place and give them money for beer). But he knows that we are able to make trips live we have done in the past ‰?? like visit all 50 of the United States, Puerto Rico, 13 European countries, Russia and China ‰?? because I’m cheap. We wouldn’t be able to afford these things if we didn’t buy used cars and pay them off immediately so we don’t have monthly payments on new cars, or... I don’t know what else I do, but my extremism is crazy, like I keep big metal stock pots at the shower to save the water while the shower water heats up, so I don’t have to pay for water to water plants. And although that sounds so eccentric, it works, it saves us money, and it allows us to relax more about finances.
    John says I smile with my face (John says he smiles only with his mouth), that I show emotion throughout my face when I smile, and he sees that in your face when you smile too. And if you want to talk about looks, well, I always thought I looked just like Sandy (probably because I grew up with her, and we both have brown hair and brown eyes), but when I looked at the photo of the 4 of us sitting at a table with Ron Antos standing with us in Las Vegas before the Mickey Gilley concert, I could look and see how Sandy has dad’s eyes, nose, even smile, in the photo. And I was a dead ringer for you... I’ve got more of the thinner curled nose (Sandy’s nose is rounder like Dad’s), even our eyes, when we smile, both of our eyes get thinner (probably because we’re smiling with our faces, so it even changes out eyes when we smile). People have always commented on my curvy legs (and I think people said things about your legs over the years too...) ‰?? I remember once sitting on the stairs near the front door at the old house and looking over to the kitchen, and the refrigerator door was wide open, and I could only see a woman’s legs, and I looked at those curvy legs and I tried to figure out if that was Sandy or you at the fridge... You eventually closed the refrigerator and walked away, and I was so surprised that I never noticed how nice your legs were (seems strange that I’m saying that, but you told me men said you had the legs of a famous actress when you were younger).
    Yeah, I guess I have a lot of physical traits you have. I see other women who are Lithuanian, and thought their chest should have given it away for me (well, at least John notices that... figures). And I guess of your three daughters I’ve got the large chest too, and no, that’s not the best thing... When we went to visit you in Florida when you found out you had breast cancer, Lorrie turned to me (not Sandy) and asked, “Are you worried?” and all I could think was that I was 25, and if I have to worry, I don’t think I have to worry yet. But I went for my first mammogram this year, and the woman doing the test tried to make sure it wasn’t too painful for me. I asked her why she was so worried, and she said that some woman, if it’s too painful for them, they won’t get a mammogram again. And I said that even if it was really painful, it’s something I have to do, so like it or not I’ll do it. It wasn’t bad, really, and it was nice to receive a generic letter in the mail a week later says my test was normal (as I expected, but it’s still nice to see). But yeah, I’ll do it, because I’ve got a family history for it. And yeah, that scares me.
    There I go, making your problems about me now, what am I thinking. Well, I’m probably trying to not think about what you’re going through right now.
    But the thing is, I can think about how we look alike (I look so much like Lorrie too, she has the same facial traits as you), but I wonder why we haven’t been as close as you and Sandy ‰?? and I don’t hold that against Sandy, we’re just different people, and Sandy chose to stay at home with you for so many years before she moves out on her own. And I can laugh and talk with Sandy (since she was around so much when I was little), I get along well with her hen I still her, and you... well, I’ve always wanted to talk with you more, but as I grew up, you often told Sandy to deal with me while raising me (Sheri attests to how many time Sandy was the instiller of rule when she was over). I even remember writing a poem where I was crying in my bedroom, and you eventually came in after I told Sandy (the one sent to deal with me) she couldn’t come in. When you said it was you at the other side of the door, my heart just sank, and I couldn’t push you away, because you never came to me like this. You came in and talked to me, and you cried, saying you weren’t good at this, but it was nice that you had emotion for me, when you usually would send Sandy along to try to calm me down.
    And now that I’ve been an adult, I still feel like I can’t talk as comfortably with you, and now is when I need to talk with you. Now is when I ask John is he can bring one of his tyvek suits home, I even wondered about extra surgical mask they have at Abbott, so I could cover myself up so I could hug you for a very long time. But I’ve never been able to be that close to you; the most we have now is when we both sit together outside in chairs at the end of your driveway, so you could have your 15 minutes in the sun. And you know, I really like those times, when we’re just sitting there. You’ll sit there with your eyes closed, and every once in a while I’ll look over to see you there, just laying, and it’s nice to see you there with me, even if we’re both just sitting in the sunlight in silence for a few minutes.
    Remember when you took me to the beach a few years ago and I photographed the pier, and since there were so many birds around I recorded video so I could get the sound of the beach and all of the birds squawking? Then the birds started flying overhead, and you put your arms over your head... I seriously was remember that you don’t like birds, I think it’s because of the Hitchcock movie The Birds, so inside I was really freaking out for you, because I was thinking that you were thinking this was the worst nightmarish experience ever... Then you said that you just want to make sure the birds didn’t crap on your hair, so I hoped that if we just got the birds away from you everything would be fine. It sounds silly, but I was at first really worried about how you were handling the birds flying around us... I know it’s silly, and I knew better quickly, but... Oh, I don’t know, I’m just letting you know what I was thinking then...
    Now I’m just trying to remember moments we’ve had together in the past, like when you came with John and I years before to the beach and we were going to record us playing songs with my little video camera. And at one point you sat on John’s guitar case and held the recorder and we played a song. I think I felt terrible because we decided to play a punk-like song called “wave of mutilation,” and I was singing the words “drive my car into the ocean...” shortly after I almost died in the car accident. I don’t know if you were listening to the words (or if you could hear them), but a part of me was mortified about what you might think after you heard me sing those words while John played guitar, with the camera facing us, with the Gulf of Mexico in the background.
    I probably could go on with stories, but I think I started to do that with the poems I wrote for you years ago ‰?? about how you’d cut an onion for a 4th of July party salad, and we searched high and low for it, and it was wrapped in tin foil in the large salad bowl the whole time. Or how you’d play gin with another couple on the poker table downstairs, you’d switch opponents and play... And John and I play gin while at home (like we did last night) to just spend time together. Or dad threaten us joking by saying that if we didn’t do something, he’d make our mother sing. Or when you’d say if all the kids were leaving you’d either have a party, or say you’d leave town and change the locks (nice sentiment... but as a joke it’s funny). How I think the phrase “two dry martinis, on the rocks, with a twist” is burned in my brain, or how you were the first in Florida to decorate the palm trees with Christmas lights because we had a Kubota (and what the hey, I loved sitting in the bucket when dad would take me for a ride, so why not use it for lighting the palm trees?). Or how I had to act all calm when you were driving home from being out one morning because we had to drive the hospital because dad cut a fingertip off. Or how Tuesday night were usually spaghetti night because dad was out for his Builders Tee Club get-togethers. Speaking of normal food like spaghetti (like noodles milk and butter, which we’re eating tomorrow after I give you this letter), you’d eat the most insane things (and yes, John likes half of those insane things too, but he was in the military and had to eat bugs in training, so I don’t think he’s quite a normal source), like eating pigs feet for breakfast (a nice treat to wake up to when I first walked downstairs for breakfast before going to school), or squid (like when I found a half sink-full of squid in the kitchen when you were downstairs and you said “are their beady little eyes looking at you?” to me, you devil). How you convinced me to try garbanzo beans because you said they tasted just like peanuts (trust me, they don’t). Or how you’d tell Sandy after thinking something tasted bad to try to taste the food (did you want a second opinion on the bad taste?). Or how you’d ask if I broke the driveway cement because I fell while roller-skating when I was little. Or even when we’d just sit in the mornings in Florida on the tennis benches and watch either the women or the men (depending on the day) play tennis together.
    Or your hair... You had it done by a hairstylist every week and wouldn’t wash your hair for a week, and after the chemo when you cut your falling hair off (you know, because loose hairs on your pillow or falling in your face drove you nuts), and then when it first started to grow back, your buzz cut made you look just like your brother (it was spooky, but then again Carol when looking for a house in Oak Park swore how much Ed and I look alike, but a part of me thinks the ponytail had something to do with it...). But you’ve been quite excited about your hair growing back, that it might be curly (when I’m trying to straighten my unruly curls on my head, you want the curls for shorter hair), and you’d wash your hair and curl your hair with your hands, meaning you could save yourself from having to get your hair done every week. Even everyone in Florida said your hair looked so cute when you wore your hats (I’ve always loved wearing hats too, maybe looking good wearing hats is one more thing we have in common).
    Or how you made both of my prom dresses for me. I know, I know, frugal lady, it costs less to make the dress than to buy one, and this way you could make sure the dress was something you’d think was okay for your daughter to wear. By the time my senior prom was coming along and you were making the dress again (which I still have, and I think wore once or twice when I’d have a formal party at my apartment in Chicago), I said after seeing the pattern that I wanted a dress that was black with ivory accents, and you said you thought an ivory dress with black accents was better. Yes, I liked the dress, but I think my obsession with wearing black all the time now is probably because you thought I was too young (when I was 17, which isn’t too young) to wear black (I didn’t want to wear black from hear to toe, so now I probably overcompensate by wearing black pants and a black jacket with a darker shirt or something).
    Or like how I went to the National Honors Society Inductions ceremony by myself because you two couldn’t make it, so everyone’s parents were there, and I had to walk around the edge of the hall (I think this was when I had a lit candle and all the new members of the Honors Society walked around with candles or something) and I saw the two of you there, sitting in the center back seats. I walked up to you after the ceremony ended, and you said what you were doing ended early, so you were able to make it. I still had to drive the station wagon home by myself, but it was nice that you came to see the ceremony.
    I remember how I didn’t like milk (rejected the bottle at 6 months, I know), but I complained that the cartons of milk were too chocolaty (what a whiner I was!), so you would tell me to get regular milk, and you put a portion of PDQ chocolate mix in a little tin foil envelope, so I could mix chocolate milk just the way I wanted.
    God, I can’t believe I was that finicky.
    But then again, I was a child. I didn’t know better.
    And I still don’t, I don’t know what to say to you, I don’t know what to do. I don’t have the magic words to make everything better, but hopefully these words can remind you of past times and let you know how I felt when I spent time with you (I apparently liked it if I’d turn my head just to see you sitting in the sun with me on your 15 minute sunning breaks...). Sandy said she wrote you a letter because she’s sure she’d cry so much telling you everything that you wouldn’t understand a word she said. Well, I know I’d cry too, I’d cry an ocean, so all I keep trying to do here is sit here, trying to remember all of the little things that have been a part of my growing up that I can always remember and cherish about you. Just know that I’ll cherish every moment I can remember with you, and my love for you will continue to grow, as it has since I have grown up, learning more and more about how valuable you have always been in my life. I love you.

Gin

but even though I have these memories
I don’t think of liquor when I hear the word
“gin”
I think of the card game,
not gin rummy, but the two person card game
my parents played whenever they’d have company over

I don’t think I ever played gin with my parents
but I remember the game
like it’s been burned into my brain now
and whenever me and my husband
are looking for something to do in the evening
we suggest playing gin
(which I had to teach him how to play)
and we call all the time to win quickly
and we don’t keep score,
we just spend time
playing card together
like my parents always did.

A Happy Ending To Everything

it’s not as though I need reminders
of what’s happening to my mother
but now, someone compliments me
on the huge blue topaz stone on my center ring
and I smile, and say thank you
and say “my mother gave this to me”
and not explain why

I don’t bother with the details
because you want everyone to think
there’s a happy ending to everything

as well there should be

Tickle-Me Elmo

I’ll Push The Cart

every time we went to the grocery store
we’d want to help her out,
take the cart for her
so it would be one less thing
for her to worry about
but she always insists,
“I’ll push the cart”
and like me, she’d put her purse
in that little basket that fold out
and we figured, hey,
she’s the mom,
she has always been in control of everything
this makes sense

but after a year or two
she fills us in
that she wanted something to lean on
because, well,
she’s lived a long life
and she’s getting older
and more tired

and I think about this now
after the two rounds of chemo
failed to rid her blood of the cancer
and my sister takes her for occasional walks
while she’s in a wheelchair
so she at least has different sights to see

and every time I visit her now
she’s resting on the couch
because with her platelets so low
with her needing blood to rejuvenate her
she’s tired all the time now

so yes,
she needs something to lean on

and I’m far away
and I wish I could be there
so she could lean on me

Videotaping Accident Recollections

the most ironic thing ever
is when you came with us
to the beach

and we were going to
record us playing songs
with my little video camera

you agreed to hold the camera
while he played the guitar
and I sang cover songs

at one point you sat
on his guitar case
and held the recorder

we played a few songs
but I felt terrible when
we decided to play

a punk-like song called
“wave of mutilation”
you were recording

me singing the words
“drive my car into the ocean”
shortly after I almost died

in the car accident

I don’t know if you were listening
to the words
(or if you could hear them)

but a part of me was mortified
about what you might think
after you heard me sing those words

with the camera, the Gulf of Mexico
and the sounds of the ocean
in the background.

So I’m Left Confused

it’s been months now
that I’ve known my mother’s intentions
and I know she’s going to die
and I’ve been having to get used to that

I mean, I’m young for this to happen
my brother is nineteen years older than me
he’s fifty five, and his mother is dying

my husband is forty four,
and his mother is doing just fine

people don’t expect their mothers to die
when they’re only in their thirties, so they?

so I’ve been sitting here for months
bracing myself for the inevitable
thinking I’m so out of place here
I’m too young for this

and then I think of my friend Brian,
the man I just married in Seattle
and he’s maybe a year older than me
and his father passed away

and then I think of my friend Carol, my age,
and her father dies when she was very young
and her mother died a few years ago

so I’m left confused
am I the odd one out
or do people’s mothers die
at any age?

am I too young for this,
or does it always tear you apart
no matter what age you are?

The Last Time He Sees Her Alive

“thank you for your wonderful daughter”
are some of the words John said to her
because if they leave soon to go back home
it might be the last time he sees her alive

and she said
“I’m glad she has you
you two are a great pair”

and when I first heard that
all I could think
was that she was glad I had you to lean on
as she is dying

and I know that’s not what she said
and I’m sure that’s probably not what she meant
but that sticks in my head anyway

because I know it comes up at the most
inopportune times, and I start crying
or at least I try to stop myself
and if John sees that I need it,

he lets me collapse in his arms

and I don’t know how many times I’ll do this
I don’t know how long this pain
of impending death will continue

so thank you for creating me
whether or not it was for john
because I don’t know how I could lose you
if I didn’t have him to help me survive

She’s Going Home

I’ve cried about it
over and over again

it’s like I’m almost
getting used to the idea

I see her every weekend
so I can see her
as much as I can
before she leaves
to go across the country
back to her home
so she can die

and I’ve tried to learn
about what’s killing her
if the chemo doesn’t work
I hear of other
more radical treatments
we could look into
but I know
she doesn’t want
any more treatment
she doesn’t want
to be in the hospital
any longer

you see,
she’s decided
that she’s ready to die

and the rest of us
have to catch up to her

to understand it
to be ready for it
to accept it

but I don’t know
if that means
I’ll stop crying

just heard today
from my sister’s house
where mom is
gaining her strength
before she can
make the trip home

that she’s leaving
by this weekend

too quickly
for me to be able
to see her
one more time

and I know, I know
I’d visit her now
and she would be tired
and she’d barely move
and when I’d call
they’d tell me
to not talk too long
because they don’t want me
to make her too tired

and I know it’s been trying
Christ, I know it’s harder for her
but it’s been hard to see her
like this
but at least this way
I was able to
see her

which is more
than I have now

because she’s going home

and I know, I know
she’s not dead
but she’s going there to die
and when she’s there
I can’t see her

tired or not
when she goes back
she’s that much closer
to death for me

***

I know she wants to be there
at her home
with her clothes
and her kitchen
and the chair
she watches tee vee in
in the den
at her computer
where she plays her games
and checks her email
I know she want to be there
for the billions of plants
she’s got growing
around her house
I swear, she could shove
a dead stick in the ground
and it would grow,
I don’t know how she does it
she brings life to everything

isn’t that funny
she brings life to everything
the sweetest woman in the world
and now she’s going home
to die

I know it’s better for her
I keep agreeing with her
her friends
and neighbors
are there
she has people to talk to
the weather is better there for her

she doesn’t want
to be a guest
in someone else’s house
like she has been
through recovery
from her multiple rounds
of failing chemo treatment

she doesn’t want
the hospitals any more
she wants to be home
it’s better for her there
I know this

I have to keep telling myself that
I know it’s true, she’s happier there
I have to keep telling myself that

they have to make sure
she’s healthy enough
for her trip
across the country
back to her home
so she’s been recuperating
so she can go home
and fall apart in peace

my brain has to keep
reminding my soul
that she’ll be happier there
but my soul says
that her going there
just puts her
one step closer
to being gone
forever

This is What You Leave Me

i stare at myself in the mirror
at eleven fifteen at night
and think of how you’re too good to die

you’re the good one
you’re not the one that’s supposed to be dying
you’re supposed to be the strong one
you’re supposed to be the one
that’s supposed to hold us together
that’s supposed to hold me together
you’re the one

i’m sobbing like a child now
i can’t hold myself together now
and you’re not supposed to do this to me
how dare you

i know people lose loved ones
but this is too young for me
i know i’m not the only one to go through this
but you didn’t teach me anything about this

nobody teaches anyone about this

i hate the world for this
and i stare at the mirror
seeing myself sobbing like a child

well

well, you never saw me like this
when i grew up anyway

so i guess now is the time for firsts

but i see myself in the mirror
sobbing like a child for you
and i think
how silly of me
i shouldn’t cry like this

but i see myself in the mirror
i’m an adult
i know better
and think that this reflection doesn’t look like you
i look more like dad
dark hair, dark eyes
wrinkles from a furrowed brow and a hard life

when you look at photos
they say i look like you
but right now in this mirror
i look distraught
not the way you are

i see the pain in my face
but it’s not your face
it’s not your hurt
it’s not your anger
it’s not anything from you
but this is what you leave me

This Is What It’s Reduced To Now

I make phone calls every week
my sister calls me occasionally to tell me news
but now that my mother is dying
and she’s so far away
this is what it’s reduced to now

I call
and dad answers

he always answers now
it used to be that either mom would answer
or no one would be home
and the answering machine would pick up

but now he answers
and it’s almost pointless to ask
if mom can talk
because usually she’s asleep

but now she can’t talk
because she has to take pills, you see
pills to keep her functioning
as long as she can
before the cancer in her blood kills her

so she gets blood and platelets
whenever she goes to the hospital now
usually once a week
but she’s also taking pills
but the potassium pills are so large
she needs so much
that it upsets her stomach to swallow them

well, a pill apparently went down sideways
and in her weakened state
the large pill injured her throat
so she has been unable to eat for over a week

dad explained to me over the phone once
that they gave her a liquid
to slosh around in her mouth
to make her numb
so that she can take her medication

apparently not so she could eat

but so she could take her medication

###

I’ve been making phone calls
and this is what it’s reduced to now
being over a thousand miles away
and hearing bit by bit
about her deterioration

not that it matters to her,
but just so you know
it’s killing me too

The Worst Nightmare Ever

you took me to the beach a few years ago
I photographed the pier

since there were so many birds around
I recorded video if them
so I could get the sound of the beach
and all of the birds squawking

then the birds started flying overhead,
and you put your arms over your head

I knew that you don’t like birds
I think it’s because of the Hitchcock movie
The Birds|
so inside I was really freaking out for you
I thought you thought
this was like the worst nightmare ever

then you said that you just
didn’t want the birds to crap on your hair
so I hoped the birds would eventually go away

but yes, I was first really worried
about how you were handling the birds
flying over us
swarming, looking for food

Remembering Your Involvement

I vaguely remember
getting ready
for the National Honors Society
Inductions ceremony

I went to my induction ceremony
by myself
mom and dad two couldn’t make it

everyone’s parents were there
and I had to walk around the edge
of the hall

I think this was when
I had a lit candle
and all the new members
of the Honors Society
walked around with candles
for their induction

and everyone else’s parents were there
and I knew I was alone

but as I walked
with my candle
I saw the two of you seated there
sitting in the center back seats

I walked up to you after the ceremony ended
you said what you were doing
ended early
so you were able to make it

I still had to drive
the station wagon home by myself
but it was nice
that you came to see me that day

Rings Like Gravestones

I like to have nice rings on my fingers
I don’t have much, but I like gemstones
on my rings, I don’t bother
with big earrings
or expensive necklaces
I think they’re too much
but I like rings

and it makes me feel bad, in a way
that my mother gave me a few of her rings
knowing she was going to die
and not wanting her children to argue
over who gets what

so I’ve got these rings I like to wear
but now I know for a fact
that on each of my middle fingers
whenever I go out in public
I’ll be wearing rings my mother gave me

not even ones she gave me before
but ones she gave
knowing she would die soon

but I wear these rings
it’s not like I have a choice in the matter anymore
and I know that no one thinks anything
of the rings I’m wearing

so I become the only one
treating these rings live gravestones
when no one has even died yet

My Memorials To You

I see the ring you’ve given me
when you were ready to die

I have no choice mow,
whenever I go out
I wear this ring on my middle finger
with this big blue topaz stone
I wear it like a badge of honor
I wear it like it’s your tombstone
I wear it like I’m some sort of martyr

but I also see the ring I got from you long ago

it’s a ring from dad of an ankh
with a small diamond in the center
signifying everlasting life
and mean to signify
his everlasting love for you

I’ve had that ankh ring
for I don’t know how many years
I even remember once wearing it
when I was in California
meeting with Joe’s religious parents
and I tried to make the right impression
but after the visit
Joe told me that he’s sure they noticed
the pagan symbol on my finger

and I was furious, I tried to explain
that ring was a symbol
of my father’s everlasting love
for my mother
but I don’t think he cared
and I’m sure his parents didn’t care

and looking back,
I’m sure people always
carry all their baggage around with them
and think whatever they want to think

###

it’s funny,
I don’t wear that ankh ring so much now
mostly because I’m afraid
that I’ll get that loop on top of the ankh
or that point at the bottom of the ankh
caught on something, anything
and maybe break the ring

I don’t know,
I guess it’s funny
how differently
I can treat
my memorials to you

Pain Is Weakness/
Pain Is A Crutch

Pain is a crutch
is on a t-shirt I own

marines wore that t-shirt
in my brother-in-law’s division

says something about strength,
determination

and when the first round of chemo
didn’t get my mother’s leukemia
into remission
when they told my mother
about hospice care
she traveled across the country
for a better hospital
and her second round of chemo

says something about strength,
determination

and when rounds of chemo
didn’t work
she decided to forgo
any addition experimental treatments

so I reminded her
of the strength of her father
for when he had cancer
and the doctors said
he had six months to live

he lived for six years

###

you know, I heard that a sage said
“pain is weakness leaving the body”

and maybe all my mother wants now
is for the pain to leave her now,
leave her in peace for good

but I keep remembering
that we come from a long line of fighters

and although pain may be weakness
although pain may be a crutch
well, when there’s enough pain
maybe we can use it all
as a pair of crutches
to help us get through anything

Really Physically Heal

I’m an X Files junkie
still, years after the series finale
and I just recently watched
one of my favorite episodes
written and directed by Gillian Anderson
where she meets with a woman
affiliated with The American Taoist Healing Center
even though Scully is a medical doctor
and a scientist

she had to ask about a friend who was ill
you see, had had heart problems
and this man, this medical doctor and teacher
analyzed his symptoms
and admitted himself to the hospital

where shortly after he was admitted
he almost died, but was saved

well, Scully asked this woman
is her friend could be dying
from a more serious condition

that something in his soul might not be settled

and this woman that worked with the Taoist Healing Center
told Scully that she used to be a physicist,
that she put in eight hour work weeks
and that she was successful
and all that time she thought that she was happy
but she had only cut herself off
from the rest of the world
and she was dying inside
she was in a relationship with another woman
but she couldn’t tell anyone about it
for fear of their reactions

and eventually she found out
she had breast cancer

and although the cancer is bad,
this woman said it was the cancer
that got her attention
where she then saw her destructive life she led
and she realized the field had little meaning to her

and after seeing a healer
who taught her to let go of her shame
and being at peace
well, that was when her cancer went into remission

and everyone looks for answers to problems
to be packaged in a nice little box
with a little bow on top
that can just make everything better
but it takes a lifetime of understanding
to be able to not let illness effect you that way

and I’ve seen this episode before
but seeing it now, in these circumstances
knowing that my mother was dying form cancer
and there was nothing I could do about it
well, hearing this fictional woman say these words
made me almost think, almost start to panic:
maybe my mother had lived parts of her life
that she did not like,
that she did not want
but she did them because she was married
to the man who ran the construction business
and she had a role to play

and I know she loves her husband
and I know she loves her children
but I really started thinking
that maybe there are things
unsettled in her psyche
that she needs to make better
and then she may be able
to really physically heal

I told my husband about this X Files episode
he remembered it vaguely,
seeing it once or twice in the past
and I explained the story to him again
and I relived those lines again
and I know I’ve heard those lines before
but I was never able to put them to practice
so I told my husband what I thought,
maybe there was something mom
had to settle with in her life,
in her soul
and he looked at my doe eyes and said no, Janet, no
he said I’m sure she doesn’t feel anything like that

so I tried to think of another X Files episode
where Fox Mulder found out
his mother died
and after finding out she committed suicide
he went to her home, looked around
and said her home looked staged,
the FBI agent in him said
she couldn’t really have killed herself
there has to be another explanation
and Scully had to tell him
that she really killed herself,
there’s nothing more to it than that
and he just had to let go

maybe I’m just grasping at straws
because she’s still fighting the cancer
and waiting to die
but I want to be that crazy one
exhausting every source
investigating every option
Hell, I’ll take an idea from a tv show
I’ll take anything I can get

Fifteen Minutes

and when I’d visit in Florida
it’s still our relative distance,
our relative quiet

I’d usually work on my laptop
either on the porch
or in the kitchen

I’d try to help with food
keep asking what you need from me
as I clean up the pans ad dishes

but you’d always say
when you work indoors
that you like to sit outside

for only fifteen minutes a day
and when you’d go outside
I’d join you

and we’d sit on the plastic
and metal chairs
in the end of your driveway

maybe talk to each other for a while
maybe you’d just tilt your head back
and soak in the sun

and I’d try to do the same
but every once in a while
I’d turn to see you there

eyes closed, resting in the sun
and just seeing you there
would make me feel better

Her Blood Is Evaporating

so she went to the doctors today
to get blood
she apparently needed a few pints

so I even asked after the fact:
she didn’t cut herself, she’s not bleeding
why does she need more blood?

and I couldn’t get an answer
I know the cancer’s made her weak now,
but it’s not like her blood is evaporating

all I know is than when she needs blood
she feels very tired, lethargic
and she has more energy with more blood

so I wonder: is the cancer actually
destroying her blood so she needs more?
and will she have to do this until she dies?

Every Minute I Can Get

we couldn’t stay long
but I wanted to see her once
on her last day in town
before she dies

it was twenty-one weeks
since I have been to her home
which was ten weeks
since she was in the hospital
for six weeks
in her first round of chemo

I drove fifty-five miles to the hospital
during both of her rounds of chemo

and now that she stopped the failing treatment
two rounds of chemo was enough
for my mom to know

so after she’s been out of the hospital
for thirty-three days

and she leaves tomorrow
I don’t know, maybe eight am
less than sixteen hours from now

but she’s leaving for home
so she can relax before she dies

I can’t guess a number
on how long she’ll live
I can only tell you the numbers
of her red blood cell
and white blood cell counts
details about the hemoglobin
I could tell you her platelets are up

but they’re only numbers
but now that she’s leaving,
that’s all I have left

so she leaves tomorrow
one thousand, three hundred
seventy-six miles,
six blocks

away from me

so call me selfish
but I’ll settle
for seventy-seven miles
one more time
even if it is to only see her
for twenty-seven minutes

I’ll take every minute I can get

Wither Away

called hours before I came over
“sure, we should be here,” my sister said
“she’s napping now”
so she should be awake when I got there

and they had game shows on
one called Lingo, I think
and mom’s eyes were opening
and closing
over and over again

she should be feeling better now, I think
she should be on the road
to getting home
and feeling more at peace with her life

I gestured to say good bye today
told mom that I didn’t know if she’d be leaving
to go back home before this weekend
so this is the last chance I might see her

but I could visit her at home
if that’s okay with her

and she said
“I don’t want you to me me wither away”
and I said,
“mom,
we want to see you,
we love you”
and I kissed her arm
and her forehead

and I did my best to not cry

wither away, she says
even if I see her for weeks
months
years
lying on the couch
falling in and out of sleep
my memories of her will not wither away
the things she has given me
will not wither away
and my love for her will not wither away

it won’t
I promise

We’re Your Children

I know on the last day you were tired
you’re tired all the time, I’m getting used to that
but I know it wasn’t because you were busy packing
my sister was taking care of that for you
I think it was because
the nurse came so late
and had to take your blood
to make sure you were okay
and I know you had to go to the hospital
to receive more platelets
    you know, to make sure you were stocked up
    for your car drive back home
and sitting and waiting at the hospital
would take anything out of anyone
and you know, you probably didn’t eat much
while you were at the hospital for so long
    I know you don’t eat much any more to begin with
    but still, you have to be able to eat something
but I think
added on to all of that
you were tired by the end of the day
because everyone was coming to see you
to say good bye to you
on your last day here
before you went across the country back home
where you wanted to be when you died

I know it was probably inconvenient of all of us
to want to see you on your last day in town
I didn’t think I’d be able to make it in to see you anyways
but I was able to drive in for a few minutes
just so I could see you once more again

I try to not tax you with my visits
and I’m sure all of us feel the same way
and I know we make you tired
probably just by being there for you
but I hope you don’t mind
we’re your children
forgive us for wanting to see you
before you go off to die

Your Soul is Shaking

can you imagine a water glass
filled with crystal clear water
and

I don’t know what an earthquake feels like
but imagine something you have no control over
starting to shake everything around you
and

and everything just starts shaking
and the water in that glass is rippling

and it’s starting to splash in its glass
and you want to hold on to that damn glass
to make the water stays in place
but you’re shaking with that glass
and

you don’t want anything to fall apart
you see everything around
unexpectedly start shaking
like everything’s about to tear in half
and

you watch the rippling of the water
and you realize
that your soul is shaking like that too

Dreams 08/30/06
“Forgot to Pack”

it’s funny,
just had to rearrange my flight
so I can leave quickly
to see my dying mother

and so I had a dream last night
that I arrived from the flight
and I was telling someone at home
that in my haste
I completely forgot to pack
anything that was in the bathroom

you know,
toothbrush, that kind of stuff

and I don’t know who I was telling
in my dream
that I forgot to pack things
that’s usually something I’d tell mom

and dad tells me over the phone now
that I will be shocked when I see mom
that she’s so thin

I don’t think I was telling dad
about my packing
I know I couldn’t have been telling mom
because

because, well, I just couldn’t

so I don’t know who I was telling

Seven Ten, Seven Twenty

received a phone call today
“this is Hazel in Naples
your dad can’t talk right now”

it was probably around seven twenty
Central Standard Time
and she told me
my mother died
about ten minutes ago

dad got on the phone
said I’m the only child he called

my husband watches me
as I listen to the news

my mother has died
and my father is falling apart
a thousand miles away

I
I tell him I’m sorry
I don’t know what else to say

I rested my hands
on the arm rests of my desk chair
everything suddenly felt very heavy

I didn’t want to lift my hands,
my fingers

it’s almost as if
after I heard
I’m too numb to cry

I’ve been crying enough before she left

and the tears will come later

trust me

The Messenger

It’s strange,
I’ve never been close to dad

and he called me
from across the country
minutes after mom died

since I work at home,
he told me I was the only child
he was calling
so it’s my job
to tell the brothers and sisters

they’re off to work now
scramble to leave them messages somewhere
call cell phones
act calm
break the news to everyone

it’s my job to be the calm one
that’s what I have to do

I have a flight to see mom and dad tomorrow
I guess I’ll only be seeing dad now

left messages for my sisters,
the teachers at their schools

got through to one brother
broke the news to him
while he was standing
in eight inches of water
doing concrete work at his job

left a message with my oldest brother
he called back shortly afterward
I told him the news
he started to break up immediately
then told me
“I have to hang up the phone now”

oldest sister called back
I told her the news
she just couldn’t believe it
mom was doing so well the day before
this doesn’t make sense

then she realized
what I had to be going through
that I had to be the messenger
that I had to be rational
and tell everyone that their mother just died

she’s my mother, too

asked me if there was anything
I needed
I couldn’t think of any words

I’m the messenger
and I couldn’t think of any words

Death and a Diamond Ring

saw my sisters
when we were shopping
for a larger diamond
to replace the original stone
in my engagement ring

we kept the original diamond
my husband’s great great
grandmother’s diamond
in her wedding ring

put it into a necklace
it’s really quite pretty

well, as I was saying
we bought a new larger diamond
for my engagement ring
and my husband was saying
he’d get re-
engaged to me
on the seventh
eight months before our wedding anniversary

well, we had all these romantic plans

and then I got a phone call
from my father
saying to come to visit quickly
because mom doesn’t have much time left

I arranged the flight
and my husband pushed forward
his plans to ask my hand in marriage again

the ring looks really pretty

but my sister said that it’s uncanny
“do you remember the big diamond ring mom has,”
she said
yes, I do
“dad got that for mom for their twenty-fifth
wedding anniversary”
I didn’t realize that
“and her mom died
right around then”
she told me that her mother’s funeral
was on their twenty-fifth
wedding anniversary
and she said it’s strange
that I’m getting a larger diamond
and mom is fighting for her life right now

well, I’ve got my ring
and my mother just died
and isn’t it ironic
how history can repeat itself

Final Rally

last night my sister called me
after we all heard
about how mom couldn’t stand up
and it looked like she was going to die very soon
well, last night my sister called me
and told me she just talked to dad
and heard that mom was feeling better
that she uses the walker
to get her medication at night
she’s still able to use the washroom
and she even had champagne with blackberries

she was feeling better
she even asked for wine coolers

and my sister and I laughed
I said, “She shouldn’t be drinking alcohol”
and she said, “I don’t care if the blackberries
are covered in alcohol, it’s food”
and we were thrilled she was eating something again
and we thought she’d be able to hold on
for a little longer now

###

when I heard the news
about my mother’s passing,
what, an hour and five minutes ago
and it was my job
to tell my brothers and sisters

I thought for a minute
and wondered if I should tell them
at the beginning of their work day
because the news will destroy their day
and there’s nothing they can do
while they’re at work

and then I flashed back
to when my grandmother died
you see, I was in school
and was due home on Saturday
and my family decided not to tell me
that my grandmother was sick
because there was nothing I could do

well, when I heard
that they held off on telling me
I told them I could have come home sooner
I could have seen her
before she died

so I knew I had to call everyone
I wouldn’t want them to feel
the way they made me feel

even though I was only giving them grieving news
they needed to know,
they just did

so I called to people
talked to my brother

he told me of how he brought grandma home
from the hospital
and she sounded great
she was acting happy
and he thought,
this has to be all of her energy
and that she was going to die soon

and she did

and he described it as like her last rally
her last chance to be happy,
to live

###

when I heard last night
that mom was drinking champagne with blackberries
I told my husband
that we should buy some blackberries
and celebrate mom feeling better

the champagne is chilling, but
we never got the blackberries last night

we had no idea
mom would be celebrating
with blackberries in her champagne
in her final rally

so I’ve got this bottle of champagne
in my refrigerator
and no blackberries

they are my favorite fruit, you know

but I’ve got this bottle of champagne
in my refrigerator
and no blackberries

and I don’t know what to celebrate anymore

Coping With Her Leaving

I’ve had to be the calm one
all this time

my brother told my husband
he was proud of how strong I was

well, I can’t be sobbing
while telling the news

when talking to people now
we’d have to remind ourselves
at that least she’s not in pain now

we all knew her death was coming
we just didn’t know when

and now I’ve just made myself numb
I mean, what other choice did I have?

I go through waves now,
usually in public

where the tears well up
and I want to let go

but I say to myself
you can’t do that

not here

not now

and I stifle my tears
and I stifle my pain

and this is what I do now
and there’s nothing else I can do

I have to hold it in
because I don’t want to let go

Letting Time Tick By

we left for O’Hare airport early
went through my automatic check-in
sent my luggage off to be X-rayed

now, I had to get an earlier flight
to see my father
because my mother died

and although I paid coach
they gave me first class
so I could grieve with my family

lucky me, first class
now I can drink through my depression
for free

so after I dropped off my luggage
I walked past the curling security line
for no-line first class security

so now I’m sitting here at gate K8
for almost two hours
waiting for time to tick by

lucky me
letting time tick by
living

Soaring So High

I’m in a first class airplane seat
flying to see my family now

the seats are roomier
and embroidered on the fake leather
on the seat in front of me, it reads
FASTEN SEAT BELTS WHILE SEATED

and I got a full meal
while on the flight
and the flight attendants
were very attentive

I’m going to Florida now
to see my family there
because my mother just died there
only about twenty seven hours ago

and I’m sitting here in first class
with these embroidered seats
with the full courses and friendly service
reminding me of when
we first went to Florida
thirty years ago

I was a little kid
so the seats were big
and back in the day
they always fed you meals in the sky
and the stewardesses were
that much more attentive

and now I remember
my first trip to Florida
where at Disney World I was afraid
to go into the dark tunnel for
“It’s a Small World”
and I was afraid to go
into the dark room
for the “Space Tunnel”
roller coaster ride
so they sat me with dad
so I’d be too afraid to cry

and I remember being so little
on our first trip to Florida
that I saw mom and dad
watching Connors and McEnroe
play tennis on tv
and I thought Connors was President Carter

I remember flying to Vegas
with my parents and my sister
when mom told me to sit by dad
so, like my construction worker father
I could marvel at all of the concrete
at Hoover Dam Below

once we took a small flight
across Florida
to the town my parents now live in
I don’t know, a DC 10, a DC 3
and we actually shared a long bench
for our seats for our flight
to where they’d one day call home

I’m flying in an airplane now
and it makes me think
of flying with my parents

and now I’m flying to Florida
to meet my sisters, to see my father
because my mother has passed

so now I sit in this big airplane seat
look out the window
at the clouds below

it’s a wondrous thing
getting so far
soaring so high

but right now, all I’m filled with
are memories of flights with my mother
when we were soaring so high

Everything Lives With Her

my mom kept pieces of my wedding bouquet ivy
after my wedding, brought it home to Florida with her
grew some down there, gave me a small pot of ivy
to grow myself
and with me, the ivy didn’t have much luck
and most of it died
and I had to put it in another pot
with other plants
and I could only keep a small part of the ivy alive
and she kept the ivy
and it grew majestically for for
in a pot at a window sill, outside in the shade
and every time I would visit mom in Florida
I’d see this beautiful ivy from my wedding
that she managed to keep thriving at her home

but then again, she could make any plant grow
we’d joke that she could put a rock in the ground
and some sort of plant would arise
I don’t know what she did,
but she’d grow palm trees from seed
(a palm tree she started is in my house now,
growing all the way up to
and curling around at the sky light,
the only place in my house that tree can fit)
she’d grow pineapple plants, herbs,
a billion other types of plants would flourish around her house

well, I’ve come back to visit Florida
now that my mother has passed
and I was on the phone with my husband,
at home in Illinois
and I passed that ivy
that she always kept flourishing
and saw that most of it had died

I’m sure it needed water,
no one is there to watch over it now

and I said,
“mom’s ivy plant is almost dead”

and then I paused and said,
“mom always kept everything alive”

even nature misses her

The Death of my Ivy

so my mom kept a piece of the ivy
from my wedding bouquet,
planted it into a window sill pot
outside her house in Florida

kept the plant growing,
really kept it thriving
and looking beautiful

she gave me clippings in a window sill pot
and most of my ivy died
so I put what was still living
into another pot with other plants

later mom cut more of the ivy for me
put it into another pot for me
and once again, most of my ivy died
but some kept living
barely
so I put a little sprig of a spider plant there
and they stayed together and survived

it turned into summer
and I placed my ivy outside in Chicago
I know my mother leaves her ivy outside,
but leaves it in the shade
but I hoped
that since the summer sun in Chicago is milder
than the summer sun in south west Florida
my ivy would be okay

and my ivy is looking quite healthy now
outside in the Chicago summer sun
and I thought,
maybe there’s a chance for my ivy to survive
anywhere now

###

I came to mom’s house
just after she died
and neighbors came by
to take care of her plants
pull all of the weeds,
try to make sure
everything kept looking good

and mom’s ivy
she took from my wedding
well, you see, it was planted in a small window sill pot
and it wasn’t in the sun
you had to remember that it was there
and give it special attention
and when I walked by my mom’s wedding ivy
I saw that because no one thought to water it
most of it had turned brown
and died

so daily I have brought
a glass of water
to the window sill pot of dying ivy

my last-ditch effort

to try to save what was left
of my mom’s wedding ivy

I check the bottom lip of the window sill pot
seems there’s till no water in there,
another day, time for another glass of water

this morning I looked
brought a glass of water with me
for my mom’s dying wedding ivy
and it looked like
all of the leaves had turned brown now

and I don’t know if it’s completely dead
I’m no plant doctor
and I don’t know if mom keeps any plant food
anywhere in her house
so I don’t know what else to do
so

so I frantically worry
coming much too late to help something live
and not knowing if there’s anything I can do

The Good Ones

I’m back in Florida now,
near my mother’s house
where everyone on these little streets
knows everyone’s name
and everyone likes my mom
because she’s such a sweet woman
and every time I walk down the streets here now
it seems that over half of the people I run into
have to stop to tell me they are sorry about my mom

and you get used to hearing that
I mean,
not that it doesn’t mean anything
or anything
but everyone is sorry she’s gone

but one woman hugged me
and said
“they always take the good ones”

and that’s when I started to react
that’s when I was just about ready to cry
because yes,
they do always take the good ones
and it made me that much more sad
and it made me that much more angry
to know the injustice of it all
and to know there was nothing I could do

she didn’t smoke
she took care of her husband
and her five children
she was so sweet
and tried to make everyone
as content as they could possibly be
she followed her husband’s lead
in doing what he wanted
and kept track of finances
so that she could afford a good education
for her children

her husband
seemed violent in his children’s eyes
he drank too much
and she stood by his side
and kept things together

and she fought with breast cancer
then had cervical cancer
and she fought those cancer attacks
and won

you’d think she had gone through enough
for crimes she didn’t commit
but, you know, cancer doesn’t fight fair
so later cancer struck back by not attacking an organ
but all of her blood instead

I know she’s a strong woman
but how could any one woman
fight every cell coursing through her body so yeah, it’s unfair
it’s completely wrong
I want to kill someone for doing this to her
someone has to be held accountable
because it makes no sense
that she has to fight a battle
she can’t win

and she’s one of the good ones
and she really shouldn’t have been taken
I hate them for taking her
and I hate them for leaving us to grieve this way
I don’t care who you are
but I hate you

It Must Have Been On Sale

it’s only me and my husband in our house
and I go to Sam’s to purchase
twenty packs of paper towels
you know, because buying in bulk
is supposed to be a better deal
so I’ll have the bottom of the kitchen pantry
lined with rolls and rolls of paper towels

you know, I might have a lot to clean up
in the next year
have to be prepared, I guess

and I’m sure I get that from my mother
my sister and I laughed
when we were in the house alone once
and we had a craving for ice cream
so we said, hey, we should look in
the deep freeze
they have this huge freezer in the basement
and we go there
and there are tons of two gallon containers
of pistachio spumoni
I guess my mother likes pistachio spumoni
because there’s a ton of it
it must have been on sale
so we shrug our shoulders and laugh
and try pistachio spumoni
for probably the only time in our lives

so now that mom has passed
and we have to go through her house
to try to clean things up for dad
to organize things, to throw things away
we find on one of the shelves
in one of the pantries
spray can after spray can
of Easy On Heavy Duty Speed Starch

(like my 75 year-old mother
ever needed to speed starch
fifty loads of dress clothes for dad)

so I take a starch can back with me,
my sister takes a starch can back with her
so at least if I have tons of shampoo
and vats of laundry detergent
and Oxy Clean tubs to clean the house,
at least I can be well-pressed for anything

Knelt and Cried

I was in the minivan
or whatever the Hell you call
dad’s new car, driven only 930 miles
dad driving, sister in the front seat
me and brother in the back seats
my husband behind me in the far back seat
and I waited at my father’s house for a while
so we could go to my mother’s services
well, they weren’t services
she didn’t want that
but dad thought the kids would want
to see my mother
before she was cremated
so there we were, the family
in ties
in black dresses
sitting and waiting
in our little hearse
to drive us to Fuller Funeral Home

for our final visit

we were in the car
and my husband in the far back seat
and he knew I was sad
he sensed I was crying
while the hearse took us to the funeral parlour
and he reached his hand forward
to take my hand
to touch my shoulder,
to something

and I couldn’t see his face
but his hand
was a grave consolation
as our hearse rolled on
to our chance to say farewell

I was trying not to cry
in the ride in the hearse
to the funeral parlour
I’ve been a good Marine
I’ve been trained to not cry
but I couldn’t help the tears at that point
and I did my best to stifle them
so no one would consider my sniffling
and no one would question
my faltering emotions

we had to take two separate cars
and we arrived
and we were greeted when we entered
and we asked where to go
and they pointed the way
to lead us in the right direction

and I think we were all afraid
to go into that room

to see her

well, I can’t speak for anyone else
I know I was afraid
afraid of what I’d see
afraid of

afraid of I don’t know what
afraid of seeing how she looked
afraid of the finality of it all

just afraid

so, I’m the littlest one
of course I let everyone else go in before me
they’re supposed to want to see her more

that’s what I hear

and we walked in
and there were many seats
and you could see her face,
asleep,
peeking out of the coffin in the distance
and we all just instinctively sat down

dad finally walked to her
and knelt before her coffin

we watched him
watch her
pray for her
talk to her

I don’t know what he was communicating with her
he was with her
and we all wanted that with her
one more time
one sister went next,
knelt
cried
then a brother
then another brother
and I watched a procession of family members
all older than me
all apparently more important than me
all with more history with her than me
and

and my husband asked
if I wanted him to go with me
when I walked up to see my mother
and I thought,
no,
I need to do this on my own

I finally walked up to her
knelt before her
and looked at her
in the dress she wore to my wedding
and thought she looked so beautiful
she looked so peaceful

she looked like she was sleeping

and I hadn’t seen her that peaceful in a long time
every time I came to visit her
since the disease started
she always looked tired
when she was awake
otherwise she was asleep
and looked fitful in her rest

I looked at her eyebrows
they were penciled in very nicely
and I looked down at her nails
and they were long,
very nicely painted

and the earrings we picked for her to wear
were so dainty
and so lovely
and the dress was so nice
and she looked so peaceful

and that’s all I could keep thinking
that she looked so well rested
that she was just taking a good nap
and she would be just fine

she had to be

###

I looked at my mother
one last time
these were my final words to her face
this would be the last time I saw her

make it good, girl
you’re the one with the words
tell her what you mean
in fifty words or less
that’s how these services go, don’t they?

and I told her that I loved her
and I told her that I hope
that I carry on any of her kindness
because that’s they way she’ll live on
because the world is filled with people who aren’t nice
who aren’t kind
and losing her
makes the world a worse place

people have told me that I am kind
that I am nice
and I only hope I can do you justice
that I can somehow make this world a better place

like you did

I only hope that I can do the world justice
because the world needs you now, mom
and you had to leave us

so what do we do now

before I left her
that first time
I started to run my hands along my chest
into a cross
because I wanted all of the spirits to know
that you are there
and that you are to be welcomed
because you are blessed
even if it’s only from the likes of me

We’re Not Making
Any More Appointments

“I never thought that your mom
was really sick, it never occurred to me
that your mother was dying.
I saw her getting more and more sick,
but I didn’t think that meant anything...
You dad was taking your mom to the doctor
and he wanted someone to go with him,
she needed help walking,
getting to the office,
so my wife went with them.
They went to the doctor,
and they checked on your mother,
and they said,
“We’re not making any more appointments.”
And...
And that’s when it hit me,
even the doctors knew
she was near the end.”

Where the Blackberries
Came From

At the parent’s house
they had blackberries left over
they’re my favorite fruit, you know
and when they reminded me
there were still blackberries in the refrigerator
I found them
and snarfed maybe over half of them down

and then I realized
that carton of blackberries
that label I saw
and read
was from the blackberries
my mom was adding
to her champagne

she added them to her champagne
and the champagne
wasn’t champagne she liked
Cooks, or something like that
so I hear she ate the blackberries
out of her glass
so her blackberries
were soaked in cheap champagne

but she was eating

that’s what I hear

but I was snarfing blackberries
from the carton of blackberries
my mother was eating from
the night before she died

and I stared at the label
on that carton
wondering if she looked at that carton
or if dad pulled the blackberries out
for my mother’s champagne
for her to eat

but
that was irrelevant
because she ate from these
and I was eating from them
like they were my favorite fruit
and nothing else in the world mattered

Even Though I Didn’t See It

I’ve been walking around here
in this mobile home park
and I was told that for days
the flag at the base of the park here
was at half mast
for my mother’s death

of course, once they told me
the flag was back up

I thought the flag should only be
lowered like that
for someone in the military
or some high-ranking government official
but

but at least they did that for my mother
even though it was only for days
and even though I didn’t see it

Clouds Over Blue Sky’s

I’ve been at my mother’s home
for a few days now
and I’ve noticed
that even at different time times of year
I’ve been in this hurricane-prone town
in the summer, the fall,
the winter, the spring
but I’ve noticed
that although it may be cloudy
for a day or two
the sky is sunny
that the skies are always blue
where my mother lives

But I’ve been here now
to my mother’s home
to put her life in order
after her death
and I’ve noticed
that now,
at Blue Sky’s Mobile Home Estates
the sky has always been cloudy

we’d look and occasionally find
minute patches of blue
among the dark gray clouds
but the sky has been cloudy gray

it can’t help it

Ingrained In Your Head

it’s strange now
I’m back visiting my parent’s house
like I have done so many years in the past
and every time I’d come home
I’d pass by and look the the kitchen window
before walking to the door
and I’d see mom,
either at the kitchen sink
or maybe with her back turned in the kitchen
or else sitting in her chair in the den
watching tv

I’m used to seeing that, you know
there are just some things
ingrained in your head
you can’t help it
and seeing mom there,
at home
seeing the outline of her hair
from the lamp in the den
it’s just second nature to me

I wonder how long
I can keep these memories in my head
so I don’t forget her

It Hurts in the Bones

“I didn’t realize
how much pain she was in

she got out of the house one day
and I did gardening her for,
she told me what weeds needed to be pulled
as she sat in the chair
in front of the house

she’d try to pull a weed up
if it was right by her chair

but she did that sparingly
and when I saw her,
I’d say,
mom, tell me what to do
and I’ll do it

she needed to go inside again
after a short while
and I think that was the most movement
she did for the rest of her life

I’d try to get her out of the house
you know, just to walk
maybe to the next house and back
and she’d always say no

and she looked like her neck hurt,
her back hurt
so I’d ask if if I could rub her neck or back

and she’d say no,

then she’d say
that wouldn’t help

and then she’d say
it hurts down in the bones

and we read this is one of the stages
of this disease

and I don’t know what it feels like
to hurt in your bones
something deeper than deep muscle pain
I
I can’t imagine it
I can’t imagine what it feels like

I think my mom
wouldn’t let on
about how much pain she was in

When the doctors told mom
she had six months to a year with this disease
my sister said to mom,
your father
(our grandfather)
had cancer
and the doctors said he had
six months to live.
how long did he live?
and mom replied,
six years.
so she tried to tell her
that we Bakutis are strong folk
and she can be okay if she fights

but I think mom was in so much pain
that she made a decision tight then and there
that she didn’t want that pain
deep down in her bones any more
and decided to let her enemy win.

we keep saying to people that it’s better
that she’s not suffering any more

emotionally, for us, we wish she was here

but we don’t want her to feel that pain anymore
and we keep telling everyone
that this is for the best.”

Wanting to Touch a Corpse

I’m the youngest child in the family
and I wasn’t as close to mom as the other daughters
so after dad called to tell me mom died
and I told the rest of my siblings
my older two sisters rescheduled their flight
so they could see dad that night

I had already rescheduled my plane ticket
for the next morning
first hoping I’d be there in time to see mom
before she died
so I wasn’t going to pay a ton to change my ticket again
so I went to dad the next day

and mom didn’t want any services
she didn’t want anyone to see her dead like that
especially if she was getting more and more sick
before she died
so we held no public services for mom
but we held a small service for only the family

it was hard for me to agree
that for this service, and for her cremation
she should wear the dress she wore to my wedding
and the remains of that dress
would be mingled with her ashes forever
but I agreed that this could be a way to connect us

we entered the room
here her body lay
all stopped at the other end of the room
all I think too afraid to make the first steps
to see her laying in a coffin
and see her for the last time

dad finally walked to her and knelt before her
cried
what am I saying, we all cried

I waited for everyone else to see her
to have a moment with mom, kneel before her
before I went to her on my own
and when I knelt before her
and tried to think of what my family said,
about how thin she looked, how her skin hung
before she died

but she looked so peaceful there, relaxed
free from pain and dressed like and angel
for her private farewell
she just looked asleep, like I had often seen her
in her final months, but this time was was no longer
sleeping to avoid the pain, she found another way out

unlike the many times I had seen her sleeping when sick
she looked free of pain, free of the battle, at peace
and I didn’t want to stop looking at her

when she knew she was dying, I wrote her a letter
telling her that I just wanted to be able to
put my arms around her and hold her for a very long time
to show her that I loved her,
and that she meant that much to me
and it was like a part of me was unable to believe

she was dead
and I wanted to touch her hand, touch her cheek
just make some sort of contact with her once more
but
but I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope
with feeling her cold dead skin

and my family would be shocked and mortified
if I touched my mother, I knew I couldn’t do it
I saw the skin on her arms, the fingernails they painted
so she would look pretty for us, to ease our burden
when seeing our mother for the last time
and knew it wasn’t the skin of my living mother

I had to let her go, even if I couldn’t help
but keep crying

More Painful to Experience

people will think it will get easier
you know, time heals all wounds
or some nonsense like that

I don’t know, maybe you’ll cry less
but I think the pain is still there
and you’ll never be able to shake it

but it’s been eight years
since the last time I encountered
and unjust death like this

and you’re right, I cry less now
from that first death
but it’s still extremely wrong that it happened

and it’s still extremely painful
no matter how I appear to react now

I never saw the first death
in his coffin
but this time I saw the death, the coffin

and I’m trying to figure out
which is more painful to experience
it doesn’t matter if it’s eight years ago

or now

Harder To Burn

you know, you hear of goth teenagers
liking the idea of posters of caskets
or you see come Halloween
props of caskets at trick stores
and tacky novelty shops
or Hell, my husband even saved
a casket-shaped “Black Death” vodka bottle case

it’s funny, caskets

imagine Son of Svengouli
coming out of a casket
to introduce another B horror movie
(or was it Elvira
that came out of a casket?)
and hey, didn’t one of those tacky tv shows
I don’t know, The Munsters, I’m not sure
didn’t a show like that have someone
who was a vampire that slept in a coffin?

ah, the humor
of a carton for carrying a dead body

right now, all I can think of
is the cardboard-based casket
we chose for viewing my mother
before she was cremated
yes, there was a wood finish
possibly a veneer
but you don’t spend for a quality casket
for a cremation,
I mean, a better wood
is harder to burn

so settle for cardboard

ah, think of the novelty to caskets
when you’re forced to deal with them
so concretely, so practically, so literally, so finally
think of the novelty

Where Else Would I Be

mom was in her second round of chemo
and the hospital was 55 miles away

so I couldn’t visit daily,
only weekly

so I’d call every day
to see how she was doing

and one day
I called in the afternoon

and she answered,
in a panicked voice

it sounded like she was crying,
and she said to me in a rushed tone,

“Call back in an hour”
I said okay, and she hung up the phone

my husband was home from work early
so he saw me in a panic from the call

we even drew a bath for me
to try to calm me down

and I told him what she said,
what she sounded like

and he tried to think
of every possibility

of why she sounded that way: maybe
she heard that her sister, my Aunt Sally died,

maybe she
maybe she got bad news about her health

but he tried to prepare me
for whatever mom was going to say

when I called her back

I kept checking the clock
and after almost exactly an hour, I called

mom sounded fine,
and before she explained anything to me,

she said,
“I’m glad you called me back”

of course I’d call back —
what else could I do?

and I responded in shock,
why wouldn’t I call her back?

I wanted to know what the problem was
and she told me

she had a bad reaction
to the medication they just gave her

and her teeth were chattering
and she couldn’t speak

so the nurses were coming
to give her something for the side effects

so she was fine
and I had nothing to worry about

###

mom was doing well
for having only so many months to live

we had high hopes for her
and thought she could beat the odds,

doctors said two to six
months, but maybe up to a year

and she was almost in remission
from the first round if chemo

so we were sure she could survive
for over a year if she wanted to

and so I planned a trip
to see my parents at their home in Florida

my oldest sister planned to visit
one month later

we had all these great plans

but dad called, less than a week
before I was flying to see them

said mom’s not doing well
I should change my flight, come earlier

lucky me, hurricane Ernesto
was coming, I mean, it is hurricane season

so I scheduled my flight
for the first day the airlines would let me

my mom died
while that hurricane was coming through

when violence was supposed to hit
our shores, our home, bring destruction

but the hurricane
didn’t touch shore, so we were safe

well, even though my mom died
they were as safe as they could be

and all of the brothers and sisters
rushed to my mom and dad’s home,

too say good bye to mom
to be there for dad

and all of the neighbors
kept seeing us there, giving condolences

and most of them said to us,
it’s good that you could be here

and our response is always,
where else would we be

I stayed longer
to help my dad function

without mom

and still, people see me and say
it’s good that you could stay here

and my response is always,
where else would I be

Flowers on the Tables

“It’s funny, every year
me and Janet host the hot dog dinner
every Labor Day,
and Janet said to me,
this is the first year
there were no flowers on the tables.
Your mother, every year,
would take flowers from bushes,
red centers, real pretty,
and place them in water at all the tables
for people when they came to eat.
This is the first year
there were no flowers on the tables.”

Making the Bed

so I’m staying in the house with dad now
for maybe two weeks, to make sure he’s okay
to make sure he’s not alone
the first eighteen days
after mom died

and I remember, because the bed
in the kid’s room,
when the door was open,
faced the entranceway to their house
so anyone coming over
would see if our bed was made or not

so it’s a rule at this house,
make you bed before you leave your room
every morning
you know, so the house doesn’t look so messy

so it’s my second day here with dad alone
and I make my bed, and I’m sure
he doesn’t really care, but
it’s something you really should do here

even if mom isn’t around to tell me anymore

and I remembered this morning
that mom would always make their bed
after dad left in the morning
she had a system down
for making their king sized bed

but as they got older, dad had trouble
sleeping on his back all night
so at a local rummage sale, mom bought
one of those twin-sized hospital beds
where you can control the inclination
of your back for a restful night’s sleep
you know, so dad could sleep
sitting up a bit more, and mom
could still rest on the twin-sized bed
right next to him

so, when dad was walking though the house today
I asked him,
I know mom usually does this,
but would you want your bed made?

and he walked into his bedroom with me,
showed how he has an egg carton mattress
under his sheets on his hospital bed,
and said that the fitted sheets often pull
out from the top of the bed, you know,
probably because the bed is always inclined
when he sleeps

so we lifted both fitted sheet corners
on his bed
and pulled the egg carton pad up
as high as we could
then put the sheet back on

then dad said,
you don’t have to do much more,
if you want to pull the sheets and blankets up,
that’s your call

and he walked out of his bedroom
and I started to pull the sheets up
on his side of the bed,
noticed that they tugged on mom’s twin bed
at his bed side
then I pulled the blanket up
and had to walk around
to mom’s side of the bed
the left side, the same way
I sleep with my husband
to pull the blankets up evenly,
to fix her two pillows
resting on her side of the bed

and

and I know he can’t be alone
and I know he’d never want to
remove mom’s twin bed,
or even remove mom’s pillows
from her side of the bed
but
but it’s just hard
to see so many reminders of mom’s existence
in places you wouldn’t expect to look

excuse me,
I have to dry my tears now

Wearing Her Jewelry

So I’m here in Florida now
with dad, while he settles in
to life without mom
and I put on jewelry for dinner tonight
put on the only ring
I wear on my middle right finger now
mom’s huge blue topaz
she gave me when she decided to
stop the leukemia treatment

and it made me think
of what jewelry I wore
to her private services

you see, we had to sift through
her costume jewelry
once I got to Florida
to pick and choose through what we wanted
I didn’t want her watches
(I have too much of a love affair
with my Tag Heuer, sorry)
and I didn’t want most
of her clip on earrings
(she never wanted pierced earrings,
she hated the idea)
but one pair of earring she ordered
was pretty, and simple
they were a pair of earrings she ordered
when she found out she was sick

it was what she bought
when she felt bad
the she was struck with cancer again

and the earrings didn’t come in the mail
so she was going to reorder them
but said to my sister,
oh,
get the earrings as pierced
and keep them for yourself

but when they got back to her town
her clip on earrings were there
waiting for her anyway

so these earrings were ones she bought
because she felt bad
because she was sick
and had to face cancer again

so I kept those earrings

I picked something else to keep
a silver chain, with a pendant
of mock diamond studs
in a heart shape
there were two pieces of glass
in the center of this heart
locking in a few loose
mock diamond studs
that could move around
within the heart

and I thought it was uncanny
that I owned a silver ring
with a silver circle
and there were two pieces of glass
in the center of this circle
locking in a few loose
mock diamond studs
that could move around
within the circle in my ring

and so I picked only a select few pieces
of my mother’s jewelry to keep

and when we were going
to my mother’s private services
my sister asked me,
“are you wearing that
heart-shaped necklace
of mom’s?”
I only showed her the jewelry on my neck
and didn’t say a word

I know, there are only a few pieces I keep
but I wear them like tombstones
and I shouldn’t need words
to explain that

Story Telling

Your see, my mom, eleven years ago
had breast cancer
and the three girls
flew to visit her at her home
across the country
and mom felt bad
that she couldn’t make our trip better
because she just found out
she had cervical cancer too

but we couldn’t have come
at a better time
and she had procedures
she had surgeries
and she had a radical hysterectomy
and then the cancer was gone
she was in the clear

so for a decade
she went to the doctor
and they found no cancer in her
and all seemed well
she had beaten
a killer

###

when I was almost killed
in a car accident
and I had head trauma
no fractured bones,
except my skull
they never told me
just my family
but not me, the patient
that I’m expected
to have a seizure
within six months of my accident

I had a grand mal seizure
seven months after
I was almost killed

no one explained to me
what was happening
and I had to figure it out
as I went along

###

well, a decade after
her bouts with cancer
she went back to the doctor,
had a fever, felt tired
and they said,
well, it’s funny,
you’ve got all the symptoms
and most women who have had
as much cancer in their history
as you’ve had
well, you’re likely to have
leukemia

###

well, she did

###

and when she found out
at her home in south west Florida
she traveled to
University of Chicago Hospital
(they’re a good hospital, you know)
and she got prepped for chemo
was in the hospital shorter than me
(damnit, I shouldn’t be
so self-centered that way)
and had chemo
lost her hair
(with her new crew cut,
as her hair grew back
she looked just like her brother,
Uncle Pete, from this army photos)
and the doctors said she was in remission

now, this leukemia is a tricky thing
cancer of the blood
versus cancer of an organ
it was easier when you could
just remove an organ
and leave it at that
but this was cancer in her blood
and the cancer crept into her bone marrow
and they had to periodically
drill into her hip bone
for a bone marrow biopsy
to see if there was any cancer
in her bone marrow

fun job,
drilling into her hip bone

you wonder why there are so many
hip replacement surgeries now
well, look at how doctors test now

a little bone pulled here,
a little bone pulled there

well anyway, the doctors said
she was in remission
(happy happy, joy joy)
but because this cancer-of-the-blood thing
was tricky
they’re going to give her
another round of chemo
just to be on the safe side
because you know, if people
don’t go through this extra round
of chemo
the leukemia is more likely to come back

so mom took the chemo
and she recovered
at my sister’s house
until she was well enough
to go back home
and recoup in her own home

I visited her in her recoup time
just shy of my parent’s fifty sixth
wedding anniversary

bought the cologne dad would give mom
for their anniversary
while I was visiting

she hoped that when her hair grew back
after the chemo
it would grow back curly
and it was
she was so used to having a hairdresser
style her hair into a bee hive
and she’d have to sleep on her nose
to keep her hair style in place
until her next hairdresser appointment

so her hair was curling now
she bought curling hair gel
she wore a little white hat
(we always could pull off
looking good in hats)
and curled the ends of her new short hair
around her little cap

she looked so cute

mom would work in the mornings
run errands, get groceries
and by lunchtime she would be tired
so she’d watch her soap operas

but who can blame her,
she’s still recovering
from all the chemo Hell
she went through

all of her neighbors said,
it’s amazing how well she’s doing
after all she’s gone through

and they were right

###

a month after I left from visiting
mom started to feel tired,
feverish
so dad took her to the doctor
and they said,
Silly us,
she wasn’t in remission

they wanted to put her in hospice care immediately
and she looked at dad,
and they both instantly agreed
they’re not giving up that easily
so back to the University of Chicago hospitals

more chemo for mom
a different chemical this time
so she won’t lose her hair
but after she went through the chemo again
they found no change in her condition

and then they said,
“you’ve got two choices:
because you’re immune to chemo now
you can go for experimental treatments,
or you can decide to stop treatment”

she said,
“I don’t want hospitals anymore”
so she made her choice

and the doctors said
she had two to six months to live
maybe as long as a year
and I said to her
as she was getting platelets
at the Hospital,
“When your father had cancer,
doctors gave him six months to live.
How long did he live?”
and she said
six years
so this was something
she could beat
we Bakutis come from a strong stock
we can do anything

I know we can

###

well, I don’t think she wanted to fight
I think the pain in her bones
was too strong
and I think she was tired
of fighting a battle
she couldn’t win
so she let it take over

they said two to six months
and she lived just shy of three

she struggled through it all
not telling us about her pain

just taking her medicine,
so to speak
and hoping everythin g would just kill her
and get it over with

and

and I think emotionally
she made the choice
despite us

###

and now I sit and write this story
and my father is sleeping
in front of the tv
in his lounge chair next to me
he says it’s more comfortable there
to fall asleep
and I’m listening to his breathing
while he sleeps
and I hear him panting
every thirty seconds
while he sleeps
like he’s having nightmares
about it all still

and as I tell this story
there’s still a panic in the air
even while we sleep

Mother’s Day Flowers Forever

when I live far away from my mother
you’d think the generic thing to do
for Mother’s Day
is to send her flowers
you know, from flowers dot com, or ftd or something

and I thought
my mother sees flowering plants
all around her house
year round

and flowers die

so I saw silk flowers at the store
in a clear glass vase
with clear epoxy
to look like water
so it looks like the silk flowers
are in water
and they’ll stay perfectly still
in their little vase

so I did this on two years
with both my mother
and my husband’s mother
and now
whenever I got to either house
I always feel good
when I see my flowers
we got them for Mother’s day

you know, because flowers die
and they kept these flowers from us

and now I’m back at my mother’s house
helping clean up
having to sort all of her extra make-up
from bins under the bathroom sink
and being there to help my father
with the collection of the ashes,
the death certificates
trying to keep a few mementos
of my mother
after she passed

and I walk into their master bedroom now
to fix dad’s bed for him
and I see the red flowers
in the epoxy-filled vase
and then I walk out to the porch
and I see the purple and blue flowers
in the epoxy-filled vase
and

and I don’t know, at least
my Mother’s Day flowers lasted

Keeping Christmas Ornaments

I know I’m a pack rat
and I keep a lot of things sometimes
but a part of me has always felt bad
because mom and dad,
when my other brothers and sisters were little
they helped them to make Christmas ornaments
from silk spun balls in different colors
my brothers and sisters added pins
with beads through them
into these silk spun ornaments
and they made pretty patterns
and the looked very nice on the tree

and a part of me has always felt bad
that I never had anything like that
that they never did anything like that with me

but I was sifting through
mom’s Christmas decorations tonight
wanted to see some of those
silk spun ornaments
she kept these thirty, forty years
and I noticed an additional box
of Christmas memorabilia in the back
I looked inside this box
and saw it filled with needlework
first I saw colored yard
designing an image of a candle
and I realized I made this
I continued looking
and saw an ornament in yarn
of a candy cane
and then I saw my lettering in yarn
in cut out patterns
saying “noel” and the like
I even saw an ivory fabric ornament
tied on the top
with beads sprinkled and glued on the bottom

and no, they aren’t as pretty
as those silk-spun ornaments
but I couldn’t believe
that my mother
kept these Christmas ornaments
and trinkets I made
when I was little

if I ever felt unloved in my life
I have to remember these ornaments
she kept of mine
and shed tears for a different reason

A Little Angel Inside

it seems strange,
that on the day the towers fell five years ago
where every television station and newspaper
is praising our resolve for all of the death
that has been forced upon us
well, it seems strange
that this is the day the death certificates
became available from Fuller Funeral Home
and this is the day we pick up my mother’s ashes

seems eerily strange

my sister is holding some ashes
to be made into a diamond from mom
so they came to us with a small container for her
and a larger cardboard box of all of mom

and Kristina from Fuller Funeral Home
even handed me a small maroon bag
tied tightly shut
and she whispered to me,
“these are your mother’s earrings”

I knew the dress we chose for her
the dress she wore to my wedding
would be burned with her in her cremation
but it never occurred to me
that the earring would survive

and here they are,
in a little velour bag for me

like how people try to keep something
from the fall of the World Trade centers
who lived through that horrendous day
well, I think, maybe this is what I’ll keep

if anyone argues about them
I’ll say,
I lost her dress
from my wedding
for the cremation
so these earrings are a gift to me now
sorry

I know, they’re clip-on earrings
and they’re not real diamonds
but they are three pretty little stones
today, tomorrow and forever
and they look so dainty and delicate
and they’re a good way for me to remember her

when we left Fuller Funeral Home today
dad carried the paperwork, the death certificates
and I carried mom with us
in her little containers
and I think I held that little red bag
like there was a little angel inside
and I had to be delicate
to make sure nothing happened to it
because I was it’s keeper now
I’ll treat it well
and treasure it always
I promise

Just Let Her Rest

it was heavy
heavy the way I felt
after I let the news sink in
that my mother died

my sister told me
to take mom’s ashes

ashes of her coffin,
and ashes of the dress
she wore to my wedding

the ashes were so heavy

so we were at Fuller Funeral Home today
and we asked if the ashes were ready

they brought mom to us
a smaller container,
a larger container
sealed tightly

along with all the necessary paperwork
to prove that yes,
these are my mother’s ashes
this is really it

and I carried mom out to the car
with my dad
so we could bring mom home
one more time

mom sat in my lap at first,
then at my feet
for a safer journey

she’s resting on my bed right now
all tightly wrapped up
like she was covered, in a blanket
because she used to get cold

there are a few polyester/
cotton button-down tops
we keep in the hallway closet
you know, for additional warmth
for mom

we kept them in the closet still
because the kids visit
and I’ve even been wearing one of them
because I get cold
in the air conditioning
in the afternoons here

we keep some of these things around
like her crocheted blankets
because she’d get cold sometimes

and maybe I can think
she’s resting now on my bed
her ashes in plastic
like a blanket around her
to keep her warm
and to keep her together

###

I probably sound delirious
talking this way
but saying these things
makes it easier to handle right now

I don’t want to think
that my mother’s remains
are now only ashes
in a plastic bag
closed with a little white twist-tie
in a cardboard box
on top of my bed

I don’t want to think of it that way
really

I’d rather think
she’s resting now
before I bring her back
to where she used to live

she’s my mom
I even just had to put her
under the blankets
you know, with a little room at the top
her her head
wherever it may be

I even had to put my arms around her
like I wanted to do
while she was still alive,
dying
so I even put my arms around her
and cried

so give her a rest
she’s needed it for so long
just let her rest

It’s Just Not Right

it’s spooky
it’s unhealthy
but I actually put the box
of my mother’s ashes
into bed earlier today
I couldn’t imagine putting it
anywhere else
to help her rest
it seems insane
it seems wrong
but I curled up with my mom
hugged her,
wrapped my arms
around the box of her ashes
and cried
but I went to the washroom
to wipe my tears
to clean my face
and I was then called
to help my father
with setting up meetings
for places my mother
is registered with
because we have to
give everyone
death certificates
to prove to the world
that my mother is dead

but now I come back
into my bedroom
and I see my bed,
and I see
my mother’s ashes
tucked into bed
and

and it’s just not right
I have to put
the box away
you know, the way
you place an urn
on a mantle
I have to do something
with it

you know,
something more generic
something everyone else
would probably do
with ashes
of a loved one

but I can’t think
of a place
to put my mother
to rest
so that watching
my mother’s ashes
rest in my bed
won’t haunt me
anymore

Doesn’t Like Being Alone

So I’ve got clippings from ivy
from my wedding bouquet
that my mother kept alive

and I never had much luck
with keeping the ivy alive
so my two pots of ivy are shared

with other plants, and my
ivy seems contest to
share its space with others

and my mom kept the ivy
thriving, but once she got sick
she couldn’t take care of it

and her ivy in the window sill
pot is pretty much dead now
like mom

I water it daily, not knowing
what else I can do
to resurrect my wedding ivy

but I just noticed, while checking
her other potted plants
in their driveway

that one larger plat in a pot
seems to be losing leaves
so I started running my hand

along the plant, to shake off
any dying leaves all at once
and that’s when I saw it:

mom put a sprig of my
wedding ivy into that plant too
and it was thriving beautifully

there

so maybe, like my ivy at home,
when mom’s not there,
maybe it needs to share

its space with another plant
to thrive, maybe, just maybe,
it doesn’t like being alone

maybe there is hope for things
maybe things will turn out okay
as long as you look hard enough

It’s Just Hard

It’s hard, I’ve hit a wall
there’s only so much I can take
I feel like I’ve been put on a boat
with only two oars
and there’s no one else
to steel the boat
and get us going
in the right direction
but I feel like I’m taking care of my father
at the worst time of his life
and I look around,
and all of his friends here
said,
“if there’s anything I can do”
or
“let me know what I can do to help”
or
“it’s do good that you’re here
to help him”
and I know it’s hard for my dad
but I’ve left my husband
and I have no one to talk to
and I go with him
to his appointments
for taking care of
my mother’s life insurance
or their titles for their home
or to government places
where he has to tell them
that Lucille is dead
so all of the rights
should go to him now

and I go with him to these things
and I don’t say a word
I just go,
to help him with directions,
maybe, I don’t know

but it’s just hard
because I know he has it tougher
but I’m alone here too
I’m even away from my own life
I don’t know what my husband
is doing right now
I haven’t seen him in weeks
and I’m taking care
of my father
and my mother just died
and I can’t cry to my father
he probably feels more alone than me
but at times like this
I feel like I’m the one
that’s alone now

it’s my role, you see
tell their first born son
my brother
that his mother just died
and I have to keep a clear head
and I have to be the organized one
and I have to make everything better
when everything is falling apart

it’s just hard

About the Author

    Janet Kuypers graduated from the University of Illinois in Champaign/Urbana with a degree in News/Editorial Communications Journalism (with computer science engineering studies). She had a minor in photography and specialized in creative writing. In the early 1990s she was an acquaintance rape workshop facilitator, and edited to two literary magazines.
    Since she got fed up with her job as the art director of a few magazines for a publishing company, Janet Kuypers, to relieve the stress:
    (a) vents her twenty-something angst musically with acoustic bands called Mom’s Favorite Vase, Weeds and Flowers and the Second Axing, and attempts to learn to play the guitar,
    (b) writes so much that she irritates editors enough to get her published in books, magazines and on the internet over 8,800 times for writing or over 17,000 times for art work in her professional career, and has been profiled in such magazines as Nation and DiscoverU and has been interviewed on ArtistFirst dot com’s Internet radio station, and has repeatedly been highlighted with interviews and readings for years with WZRD 88.3 FM radio in Chicago,
    (c) turns that writing into performance art on her own and with musical groups like Pointless Orchestra, 5D/5D and Order From Chaos,
    (d) writes so much that in order to make her feel like a big shot she gets ten books published: Hope Chest in the Attic, The Window, Close Cover Before Striking, (woman.) (spiral bound), Autumn Reason (novel in letter form), the Average Guy’s Guide to Feminism, Contents Under Pressure, Changing Gears (travel journals around the United States), The Key To Believing (2002 650 page novel), and etc.
    (e) gets tired of thinking about her own pathetic life, so runs a non-profit publishing company, where she does internet work and book design, and edits a literary and art magazine so she can read and broadcast other people’s depressing stories,
    (f) performs spoken word and music, both locally and across the country - in the spring of 1998 she embarked on her first national tour, with featured performances, among other venues, at the Albuquerque Spoken Word Festival during the National Poetry Slam, in 2003 she hosted and performed weekly at a poetry and music open mic called Sing Your Life, starting in 2002 she was a featured performer, doing quarterly performance art shows with readings, music and images, in 2005 she started monthly iPodCasts and an Internet radio station of her work,
    or (g) all of the above.
    When doing all of that didn’t work, Janet decided to quit her job and travel around the United States and Mexico, writing travel journals (collected into a book called Changing Gears) and starting her first epic novel (The Key To Believing). She also released a final collection of poetry called Oeuvre, a final collection of prose called Exaro Versus, and an art book called L’arte.
    But after that work wasn’t enough, she thought she would try to get her life back into order by moving across the country once or twice, getting married and getting a house with fireplaces, a jacuzzi and a sauna. After venturing to Puerto Rico, to nine European countries (Germany, Austria, Italy, the Vatican City, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg and Switzerland), and to China (Shanghai and Beijing), Kuypers thought she would (because she’s psycho on never being at rest) do more design work, master compact discs and Performance Art shows in Chicago, and yes, have more books of hers published. Doesn’t she know how to rest?