Tag Archives: memory

self-indulgent grief

I’m never sure if I should post poems like this.  I wrote it Tuesday.  It was Isaiah’s birthday, he would have turned three.  I found myself thinking about MY loss and not really about him.  Then snapping out of it, I again realised how ridiculous the process of grief can be and where the mind wanders.  A psychologist told me that if the model of Adam and Eve in a perfect garden (all perfectly created) is our origin then we were never created for grief.  We weren’t given the proper capacity to handle loss very well.  Perhaps that is why it is so awkward and painfully emotional.  Scribbling the emotions down has certainly helped the process of grieving for me and I hope you don’t mind me sharing it.

.

self-indulgent grief

is a sticky film

the memory likes

to touch

feeling the tackiness

fingering the sorry feelings

wallowing in

memories

hopeless sadness

pain

sorrow

to feel their tackiness again

.

like touching the sticky photo

of my brother’s engagement party

I’m standing to the side

an empty shell

still in shock

from the night before

wondering what I’m doing there

my Uncle’s voice plays in my head

“….you’re unbelievable

to be here”

but not coming

would be worse

and I play the tape again

to feel the emptiness

.

C.S Lewis

describes it:

a ‘bath of self-pity’

‘the loathsome sticky-sweet pleasure

of indulging it –

that disgusts me.’

.

and suddenly

you awaken

and notice your memory

fingering the

grief

.

tearing your hand away…

.

“Happy Birthday Isaiah!”

“How are you little guy?

You are three today.

You would be running around

with your brothers

skinning knees

kicking footballs

riding a new tricycle

down a big grass hill

.

Have a great birthday

where you are,

skinning knees

kicking footballs

riding a new tricycle

down a big grass hill

we love you mate

Happy Birthday!”

.

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