The title is not a typo. I saw Wilson yesterday. He had figs to offer. No better summer treat than fresh figs. And he thanked me for writing a “Spice of Life” about him last week. So I decided to make Slice of Life into Spice of Life in honor of his good mistake.
Two weeks ago today I had a hysterectomy. I’ve been amazed by the kindness of my circle. I’ve received flowers, cards, cakes, food, figs, and numerous other ways people have shown gratitude to me. There’s this interesting twist of things when one who is a caretaker becomes the cared for. I’ve had to loosen some control and let people help. I called my neighbor to pick up my dog’s meds at the vet. I allowed my daughter’s father-in-law to sweep my kitchen floor. It’s a weird space to be in. Needy. Grateful. Humble.
Last week, on the day of the surgery, I got an email writing prompt from The Fishbowl. Children’s author Kelly Bennet sends a 7 minute quick write each week. You can see the prompt here.
In my 7 minute writing response, I wrote a eulogy for my uterus. Each stanza is homage to each of my three daughters’ births.
Betty, Wilson’s wife, says I need to breathe in green gratitude to replace my uterus. I’m honestly not there yet. My body is still quite angry about the whole thing. Maybe next week, Betty? But I did, after a few critiques, take out the slaughtered pig reference.
My uterus was a vibrant thing
after Lucille Cliftonwas an egg in a nest
of brambles and moss holding
a suckling embryowas a vase for spring flowers
bursting forth in April
shouting to the skywas a silk blanket
wrapped around the soul
of the wrongs of the worlddid not walk out on me,
was taken for its uselessness
a holy sacrificeI groan for all it’s grown
and known–
blessed womb.Margaret Simon, June 27, 2023
Reflections on the Teche 
Thank you for introducing me to the “Spice of Life” and Lucille Clifton. I think your uterus poem rocks! I like it much better than Clifton’s.
As always, I love how you work things out on the page and take us along on your journey, in both poetry and prose. I love the metaphors in your eulogy and am glad you gave a nod to the pig in your narrative. Take care of yourself! (Thanks also for the link to the poetry prompt–I signed up 🙂
Funny and lovely poem! I like how you used this time to pause and reflect, while most people would only be able to see the negative. I hope you heal quickly.
Spice of life! And Lucille Clifton. I’ve learned a lot from what you shared today. Your eulogy poem is perfect. And I hope you continue to heal well.
Turning your pain/anger/neediness into a thing of beauty! Hope you continue to heal.
Margaret, your poem celebrates one of our big treasures, and it was wonderful! I hope you heal physically quickly and take the the time you need to heal in other ways from this transition.
How can you not love that nest that held your babies?! Your poem reminds us of the beauty of our organs, frail and faithless though they may become. I agree with the other commenters- your poem was just the thing to give effort to at this time. Thank you for sharing it in this community.
Sorry/not sorry about the slaughtered pig. Your poem is stronger and more cohesive without it. Looking forward to future poems about your healing.
PS — I think “Spice of Life” needs to be a permanent change!
Sending you healing energy and love. Hooray for celebrating your circle and letting them be there for you. Your poem was great. Such carefully chosen words that painted such meaningful images.
Margaret, as you heal your voice finds boldness and your thoughts speak out with clarity. I can see your Eulogy for a Uterus as a spoken poem. Continue to find healing power within you. Those around you care so continue being grateful for all you have as you walk the road to recovery. My thoughts and prayers continue to be with you.