Thank you for directing me to these. The line about it being a one-man job...phew. That says it. Witnessing death is such a privilege and such a set-apart experience.
At three years old, my own daughter was interested to know more about her Opa, who of course had died many years before her birth, which led to her having a real obsession with death for a good while. Lots of deeply philosophical conversations with her for a few months.
I'm glad you liked it. Losing my Dad precipitated a bit of a crisis in my life. That poem came to me complete, one evening 3 years after he died. I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Chopping vegetables. Suddenly, the words started forming themselves in my head. I knew it was exactly what I had been trying to find. I dropped the knife - dived for a pen and a scrap of paper, and started writing. My (now former) partner tried to ask what was happening. I ran out of the kitchen to a quieter room - I just had to let the words flow.
I felt these David. I lost my mam almost 2 years after my son was born. She had been suffering from dementia for some time, so met him countless times yet never did.
Ahh. That's hard. Grief is one side of life's coin. It's hard to explain to a child. All you can do is make your Mam part of his life through stories, and photos if you have them. They all live on within us....
Very nice 👍
Thankyou, Ayesha
D :)
Thank you for directing me to these. The line about it being a one-man job...phew. That says it. Witnessing death is such a privilege and such a set-apart experience.
At three years old, my own daughter was interested to know more about her Opa, who of course had died many years before her birth, which led to her having a real obsession with death for a good while. Lots of deeply philosophical conversations with her for a few months.
Hi Laura
I'm glad you liked it. Losing my Dad precipitated a bit of a crisis in my life. That poem came to me complete, one evening 3 years after he died. I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Chopping vegetables. Suddenly, the words started forming themselves in my head. I knew it was exactly what I had been trying to find. I dropped the knife - dived for a pen and a scrap of paper, and started writing. My (now former) partner tried to ask what was happening. I ran out of the kitchen to a quieter room - I just had to let the words flow.
Love and grief. A coin with two sides...
Your own story captured it well.
Best Wishes - Dave
I felt these David. I lost my mam almost 2 years after my son was born. She had been suffering from dementia for some time, so met him countless times yet never did.
Ahh. That's hard. Grief is one side of life's coin. It's hard to explain to a child. All you can do is make your Mam part of his life through stories, and photos if you have them. They all live on within us....