Not everyone's cup of tea

Poetry isn't everyone's cup of tea.  Bereavement isn't either:  I wouldn't recommend it if you can avoid it.

I learned 25 years ago, after the death of my first husband, that it's ok for the bereaved to make jokes about death, loss and the downsides of their departed loved ones where it isn't for anyone else.  I offer the (hopefully) mildly amusing introduction to this blog post in that spirit.

Anyway, one thing that's been going on over the past few months is that my subconscious has been reminding me that it's the time of year when my second husband died.  It's been gradually feeding me the memories of the month or two leading up to his death.  I'm used to this, it happened with my first bereavement (for about twenty years) so I haven't been surprised, but it hasn't been a happy time.  I get on with my life and there are still many good things in it but I was also suffering from various minor physical ailments which increased in severity.  My system does that.  Most physical ailments I suffer from are triggered by something or other psychological.  I did what I always do - had extra acupuncture and other alternative things.  This has, thankfully, put me on the road to physical recovery.  It's also allowed my conscious mind to unlock what's been going on in my unconscious mind. 

Poetry is a valuable tool in condensing what we think or feel into a form which, if it's done successfully, conveys ideas concisely and rapidly.  I think this latest poem of mine does that.  It's been tough.

a different grief

and now unexpectedly

different grief

I didn’t know

I hadn’t done

two years

has been about the ending

bad memories

of your suffering

knowing

I couldn’t have done more

but always wondering

now suddenly

here you are

being Mike-ish

loving me

reminding me

of all the good times

two years

after your funeral

now I am suddenly

reconnected with the real you

able to miss you

at your best

and not the worst

of those final months