Irene Latham is gathering Poetry Friday today at Live Your Poem
I didn’t want to write about my father today, but I woke up and looked at the clock at 4:44 AM, so there he was. He would tell us that he always woke up at 4:44. He had a thing for double numbers. His birthday was 11/11/33. On this day 4/11/22, he had a stroke and died 11 days later on 4/22/22.
When I opened #Verselove, I saw a prompt that Kim Johnson shared in our poetry session on Wednesday at the Fay B Kaigler Children’s Book Festival. Unfortunately, Kim had a family emergency, so she had to leave on Thursday. She is supposed to be sitting with me as I write this morning. The loneliness has gotten the best of me, so I had to write about my father. As Kim and I said to our session participants, poetry can be healing. It’s a place of vulnerability. Kim’s prompt can be found on Ethical ELA.
Remember
I remember the phone call in the middle of class. I answered it. I remember thinking something bad had happened.
I remember I packed a bag for 3 nights max (I stayed 2 weeks).
I remember the gruff hospitalist rattling the bed with her pronouncement of no hope. You stared after her with anger and fear.
I remember the long days as you fought, grabbing tubes, glaring helplessly, speech stolen by the stroke.
I remember tears and singing, prayers whispering, silently longing to bring you back to us.
I remember someone said the deepest grief comes from the deepest love. I wasn’t ready to remember.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 