Twenty-Four Years – A Poem

January 3, 1988 is the day my mom died. It’s been 24 years today. At the dVerse Poets Pub today, Brian says there is a poem in everything. Perhaps there is a poem in this.

Twenty-Four Years

We knew it was coming
the diagnosis was grim
and so the call should not have been
a huge surprise to me
But it was
that January day long ago

One day you were there
we were celebrating Thanksgiving
then you were gone
just a box of ashes

Each year
for the next ten years
on that very day I would think of you
It shouldn’t have been a surprise
but each year it was
like a ton of bricks hitting me

Then one year, somewhere around year eleven
there was no ton of bricks
the day came and went without fanfare
without sorrow
without remembering

It’s not that I forgot you,
I thought of you often,
but not on that day,
this day – January 3

Until this year. 
It’s been twenty-four years today
More than half my life
you’ve not been there
and I’ve missed you

From this day forward
I will have fewer days with you
than without you.

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12 Comments

Filed under Family, Life, Poetry

12 responses to “Twenty-Four Years – A Poem

  1. ~L

    such sorrow… you expressed your emotions so beautifully!

    ~L

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  2. this is like a litany of grieving… thank you for sharing it.

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  3. The last seven lines are so palpably painful for anyone who’s ever lost someone they loved. Thank you for sharing this.

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  4. Powerful, lost my Mom just over 2 years ago; spread her ashes that Thanksgiving. Well said.

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  5. “…from this day on I will have fewer days with you than without you…” wow. poignant. nicely penned.

    http://magicinthebackyard.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/look-me-in-the-eye-when-you-say-goodbye/

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  6. Ditto, you struck a chord…struck the whole symphony, actually. Sigh. Well done.

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  7. Thank you, Linda, for sharing about your mom with us and putting it into a poem. Really tugs at me. How blessed I am to have my mom with me yet. Makes me want to go hug her right now . . .and send hugs to you too. God bless you and cover you, Linda, as you remember with love.

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  8. wow struck a cord there…yep there is poetry in that…and evocative as well…a heavy thought on the days left…

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