November 10, 2018

Immersed In Yellow


Collage in Yellow

~ Immersed In Yellow ~

I imagine I’m in a mustard sandwich
between maples still brilliant high above
and the lawn below, deeply carpeted in gold

I love to watch those dancing leaves drifting 
through the air like giant snowflakes 
floating down to find their spot
and settle there ’til buried
deep in ice and cold

Even in demise
glistening in the sun 
leaves gently carry down
their quiet autumn
blessings

JoMae
11/07/18

November 01, 2018

Bereaved


Blossoming in the Desert
Ocotillo Plant in Joshua Tree
Photo by Nancy Spoelhof

~ Bereaved ~

In the muddle of mourning 
when words run like tears all
mangled together unsorted, one 
needs to decipher, learn to discern
what and when to appropriately share.

JoMae
10/1/18
More thoughts on grief from one whose tears
tend to pour out in words.
(a note to myself)

October 29, 2018

Bookwifery Challenge


Five Day Challenge on my book idea re Reflections on Loss~

John's Garden in Glass
~an icon of love~
The following pieces first appeared on Instagram responding to a #bookwiferyvisibilitychallenge to answer five questions when considering a potential book idea. Exploring the possibility this way helps clarify goals. 

Day 1 - Name Your Message
My message is to bring insight about grieving both to those who have lost recently and are walking through it for the first time and to those who have friends and family who are mourning loved ones.  To share insights into loss one can only learn by walking in those shoes.  To give a glimpse of small moments that show both the hopeless sense of emptiness and absence as well as the glimmers of new that sprout up from this dark place.  To let people see examples of hope, of unwanted gifts which emerge out of the pain of loss.  To help others see that it is possible to accept those ‘unchosen gifts’ and flourish in embracing them.  To show examples that yes, horrible as this is, some good can come out of the sadness.  One can live on.  Grief can be transformed through the unforgotten love it is rooted in. 

Day 2 - NameWhy It Matters
I believe my message matters because when a loved one dies, we who remain find ourselves in uncharted waters, feeling stunned and lost and in need of finding a new identity. New relationships in a once familiar world.  New balance. It will take much time and healing to be centered again. During this time of adjustment and transition to finding your new self, the voices of those who have walked in your shoes will be invaluable. Their words can be both touch stone and guide through this new terrain. Yet in the shock of loss, one may find it difficult to focus, to absorb long articles. I hope my short pieces will hold the hand of someone in deep mourning. I also hope the experience shared will help friends and family better understand the pain. 

Day 3 - Name Who It's For
Who am I writing for?  First of all, I wrote these pieces for myself.  They emerged from journaling my way to healing after losing John, my husband of 57 wonderful years.  Most of them came out in short poems which captured a moment of insight or reflection on this loss.  Also the hope and healing which often surprised me.  My hope is that these short reflections may be a touch stone for others encountering loss. For both the immediate loved one and friends/family wanting to better understand the many dimensions of loss. 

Loss of a loved one, deposits those left behind in a world of unknown territory. Suddenly we must learn to maneuver strange, confusing thoughts and terrain. Often we are left to translate well meant words that otherwise would hurt.  All the while knowing that before our own loss, we didn’t ‘get it’ either.

I know that at first, I was unable to focus long enough to tackle lengthy articles or blog posts on grief - which became valuable to me later. So maybe my pieces will hold the hands of those whose mourning is still raw, and bring comfort.

Day 4 - Name What You Wish They Knew
What I wish they knew, starts with what I wish I’d known. What I didn’t 'get' when my own Dad died. What I didn’t understand about what my Mom was going through.  The visceral reality of absence. The silence. The void.  Not that anyone else can fill that void, but the acknowledgement of it is so important. A call, card or text from time to time to check in to see how a grieving friend is doing and if they need anything, goes a long way - even if nothing is needed. It is comforting to be reminded you are not forgotten.

I wish I’d known how long the emptiness remains - even when life gets busy again and others think all must be back to some kind of normal. I wish I’d understood these things when Mom lost Dad and when other friends were mourning their losses. I wish I’d known to recognize that the smiles of early mourning are likely masks donned for stepping out, yet discarded behind closed doors.  I wish they knew how self-conscious many feel, not wanting pity. Preferring to stay inside instead. 

Before death comes for one we love, it’s almost impossible to imagine surviving such a blow. I wish I’d known, and others too, that as life goes on, unsought gifts slip in - not to replace the grief, the love you had, but to grow from it as you find your new identity without your beloved one. That out of the seeds of your buried love, you will blossom once again. 

I am so thankful that I had a hobby, in my case it is writing. Alone, now on my own, I let the solitude embrace me and dove into this thing I love to do. I lost myself in words to pass the hours and sort out the confusion. So I encourage others to consider what brought you joy before, whether cooking or music, knitting or gardening… - let yourself be lost in it as time allows. Dive deep. That too, is what I wish others who are grieving, know to do.  

Day 5 - Name How You Can Help
Perhaps I could help by offering thoughtful words in small bites meant to share the heart of one who has also grieved. Someone who has walked in their unfamiliar shoes and struggled with bereavement first hand. While each person’s reality is vastly different, I have found comfort in the insights gleaned from others who are grieving. From others who are members of this unchosen tribe into which we have all been pulled, kicking and screaming. I hope that sharing these vignettes of moments on my journey might hold someone’s hand by being the voice of another who has experienced a deep loss; might be a virtual listening ear to one who is grappling with the same questions and uncertainties I’ve had. 

JoMae
10/29/18

October 17, 2018

Double Edges


Linden Tree at Clox
Photo by Judy Spoelhof

~~ Double Edges ~~
Life is a two edged sword these days.
Loss is hard and discombobulating
yet through the effort of adjusting
joys emerge as unexpectedly as
did the grief. Sorrow and joy flow
intermingled through my hours.

Sometimes I try to sort them out as if
warring and determined to compete -
although to no avail, for I’m learning
they are one and must find peace.

And should you hear me whine of loneliness, please
know, it’s not so much a craving for companionship
as craving that companion who has vanished
whose absence is a void impossible to fill.

Know also this. That void is only half the story
the other half is gently filling up with joy -
transforming joy with power to melt the sword
and meld both edges into one new life

where pain of loss will be subsumed, embraced
by wonder carried over from the past and
molded to a plowshare full of purpose.
Fit for service.  Joyful service.

JoMae
5/20/18

October 12, 2018

Aftermath


     Willa Cather, 1873 - 1947

Can’st thou conjure a vanished morn of spring,
     Or bid the ashes of the sunset glow
Again to redness? Are we strong to wring
     From trodden grapes the juice drunk long ago?
Can leafy longings stir in Autumn’s blood,
     Or can I wear a pearl dissolved in wine,
Or go a-Maying in a winter wood,
     Or paint with youth thy wasted cheek, or mine?
What bloom, then, shall abide, since ours hath sped?
     Thou art more lost to me than they who dwell
In Egypt’s sepulchres, long ages fled;
     And would I touch—Ah me! I might as well
Covet the gold of Helen’s vanished head,
     Or kiss back Cleopatra from the dead!

<><><><><><>
I love this poem by Willa Cather.  It expresses for me the sheer finality; the void, of loss. The impossibility, try as one might, to conjure up in the mind’s eye (or the soul’s) a tangible memory of one’s dear departed.  The futility of trying to grasp an echo of their presence wrestles with the guilty ache that one so dearly loved could be so completely absent from a day’s experience.  -JoMae

October 06, 2018

Driving South in Autumn



- Driving South in Autumn -

Traveling through the rolling hills of Pennsylvania 
soon after dawn on this sunny autumn morning
the hills look wrapped in blankets of soft velvet. 
Mist is rising in the valleys

In sharp contrast to this veiled distant view
a lake shines brilliant blue and
rippling rivers glisten in bright sun.
The day is mild.

Rock cliffs edge the road
where the highway was cut through 
their faces, wet with dew, reflect the sun 
like giant coal black mirrors to the world.

The trees and hills nearby will not be muted
their colors joyful, many leaves still holding on
though countless branches are already bare
- soon to be blanketed with winter snow.

JoMae
1l/13/16

I ran across this memory of our last road trip the other day.  Such wonderful days. Never dreaming they would suddenly end just a few short weeks later!

September 29, 2018

Girls Will Be Women


Rules Are Changing -

Boys will be Boys, but
Girls increasingly become strong Women
Able to speak their truth and be believed.


In the wake of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford speaking up, I’ve been reading the many many stories pouring out by women who have quietly carried the secret of sexual assault and its echo of fear with them all their lives - and I’m thinking:

Boys will be Boys
Men will be Men
Girls become Women able to speak their truth.


Beware, the world is changing

JoMae
9/19/18

September 21, 2018

Quiet Time


Soaking in the Beauty...

QUIET TIME

Enjoying my small woods with book in hand
this stunning late September morning. 
A time to sort the day ahead
to read a bit and think
to meander deep
within and
listen 

<><><><><><><>

When I step into my inmost Self
for a time of quiet pondering
Godde is already there

Godde is always there - if
I’m aware or not. Always
near to listen, to engage
as I wrestle life issues
or just breath in the
beauty of the day
and listen

JoMae
9/21/18

September 14, 2018

Flashback - Morning Beauty


~ Morning Beauty ~
(Flashback to September 2012)
The Elegance of Shadow

The garden is less lovely without John’s care
and his zinnias do not grace my table now
but the shadows still enthrall me
I find such beauty there

John introduced me to the elegance of shadow
on an early date, an evening walk around
Reed’s Lake as he pointed with wonder
to the lamp post reflected at our feet

I may not have even noticed.
John saw beauty in the shadows - 
a gift that keeps on giving to this day!

JoMae
9/14/18

September 06, 2018

Bubble of Light


~~ Bubble of Light ~~
Late afternoon.  The morning sunshine
pouring through these windows is long gone.
A confusing disappointment has left me empty, 
I am riding out the ending of the day ’til it is past.

And then. One tiny ball of light began to gently dance 
upon the carpet. Rays glancing off a neighbor’s window
seeping through the leaves to drop in on me a while?

It came and went, popped about a bit and brought a smile
for there is usually no sun in this room around this hour.
Still, there it was. An errant bubble bursting in and out
and in again until I got the message of its little light.

For even in the gloom the light of joy is present. Even
when we forget - are not aware - Love’s Presence
enfolds us and sometimes in the background of
an ordinary day, sometimes with a tiny nudge
brings a smile bursting to remind us to be
Joyful

JoMae
7/27/18