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This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2005-01-07 16:39:26 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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On the Grief of Parents

We explore never-ending time for carved sequences inscribed with someone’s name, but those are not their bones ...the ones we search for bones buried with our wishes maybe the smell of blown candles waft of weddings, or funeral lit-- whatever we thought was real a hoax No instant’s seamed enough; all moments held burst like water balloons-- sodden colors shrunken to the size of small skulls For a time, when a child dies, parents also lose reminiscence of birth and birthday parties, Christmas joys, and tucking in… except that final one

Additional Notes:
Dedicated to all parents who grieve, around the world, who may not have even had the privilege of that final tucking in.

This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-02-04 19:19:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.34091
your piece hit home for me. Altho I have never had to bury one of my children, I grieve because some of them have buried me. What I mean is that I am ignored and put out of sight and mind. No I don't want sympathy here...just an understanding. No instant’s seamed enough...sp. seemed What of the parent's of soldiers who died too young? They too grieve.Their tucking in would be with the country's flag. Too sad, too sad. you packed a whallop here in this short piece. Thanks.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Kelly Denise LaBeff On Date: 2005-02-03 11:22:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.95455
Oh, Joanne, "that final tucking in", you amaze me, not that you're not talented or educated enough, to come up with great ideas ~ mind you,,,,because you are, actually you far exceed that, but you amaze me inasmuch that verse after verse you write yet another verse with exceptional, fresh, unique, unexpected ideas on which to craft a poem! More so amazing is that "ONE LINE OR PHRASE" you always coin, which always obtains that needed special effect and in this case it's the line, "that final tucking in"...just gives me goose bumps reading it! Say, didn't your last verse do that to me, too? I think it, The Pink Dish, did! In these lines: "No instant’s seamed enough; all moments held burst like water balloons-- sodden colors shrunken to the size of small skulls" The pain felt is obvious and raw. It shows just how very close to self-combustion we become when grief as raw and real as this rips like saws into the flesh of our agony beating within our hearts and playing then rewinding and playing again constantly- over and over in our minds. You used perfect phrases for your description of emotion and image needed within that verse, throughout your entire verse as well. It's strange how nothing can distract our attention when it's focused solely [on grief] on the longing for the presence of another's life who is no longer with us less our love for them within our heart, their coming to us within our dreams regardless of our orbit cycle and in our minds where their memory dwells forever...it is as you said: neverending! And then it's just the same when things remind us of them...it's a process of thought that can not be interrupted, at all! Yes, when people die especially our precious little ones so much is missed out on like birthdays, Christmas' milk and cookies for Santa, fairy visits dropping coins beneath pillows in exchange for a tiny tooth bravely pulled just before bedtime, and then there's missing T-ball games or any sporting event where our children even if they only play for 3 out of 90 minutes become instant super stars within our eyes with every time being just as grand as the time before regardless of the sun or moon. More strongly, it could also be said, "despite that fact that other things are happening, too, all around us" for instance you're a dedicated marine biologist studying a particular whale of the female{this is the only one in existence as its mate had recently expired} -on the verge of becoming extinct, it is infamous on TV as being an endangered spieces ..let's say this one of a kind whale unexpectedly gives birth to twins .... well, if you're grieving for a child you've just lost then this miracle of nature means nothing and pales in comparison to the thought that prevails, the loved one who went on to be with the Lord before you! That's how drastic and tragic when one's child dies. Forgive for me rambling, but this piece provoked it. I pray none of us are dealing with grief as terrible written within your verse. Thank you for sharing, Kelly PS If mistakes on my behalf arise and sense can't be made from what I've said forgive me for it's the 6th day now that I've gone without sleep,,just a two hour catnap each day from 1 to 3! Bravo again to you, excellent verse, handling delicately the grief of dispair!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jane A Day On Date: 2005-01-29 20:50:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Joanne, I can't help as I read this poem to think of all the childern swept away in the Tsunami. I love the emotion in this poem but sometimes want to weep with you more exactly-- see the Christmas joys and the parties. The body images merged with death are so strong, I want the life ones to be as well. As always thank you for sharing. Jane

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-01-25 08:52:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.82143
On the Grief of Parents.....a most heart wrenching one poet......I thank God every day I have never had to go through this.......life has enough roads to travel my heart and prayers go out to all who have travelled the one where a child is taken one way or another........ good structure, word flow keeps one wrapped in the pain felt........ We explore never-ending time for carved sequences inscribed with someone’s name, but those are not their bones how often does one walk through a cemetery to reach names on a headstone? Perhaps more often then one knows.......in the past people used to put pictures of the loved one, so sad when you saw a child's face smilling back at you on that cold stone........how often has one visited the Wall, with the names of all those that have given their life for freedom within this country and abroad.........where do you go when a child is taken away from you and never returned in whole.......parts here, parts there, but never sure......oh Lord, this is too sad even from the start for the emotions, images are intense my friend.... I hate the smell of flowers as you enter a funeral home, they are pretty to look at, nice for the family to receive, yet they too will wither soon and die...........there were twins once upon a time, a boy and a girl, left in the care of their older sister and tragedy struck....both died together while playing outside......can you imagine the pain the parents felt upon returning home to such a loss? Still, can you imagine the pain the sister felt then and perhaps even now after all these years....... Memories are tucked in the corner of our hearts and our minds to keep these lost ones alive so to speak......yet I must agree these memories fade rather quickly when new ones of final resting comes into play.....I again thank God for that road not travelled...... I know you are very very close to the emotions within the lines my friend and my prayers are always with you especially when a birthday, holiday, anniversary of the passing come your way........we try to keep those candles burning, try to put aside the memories of the bad times , and pray that mama and papa will always be given the opportunity to say good night to their child, cover them with blankets and leave a kiss upon their cheek.........the age of a child matters not, newborn to eighty plus years......if the parent is still living the pain is just as great.......Thanks for posting and sharing this most difficult piece to write......your memories are still very much alive my friend......God Bless, Claire

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2005-01-22 21:33:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Joanne, “We explore never-ending time for carved sequences inscribed with someone’s name, but those are not their bones” --- You made an eternal hole in these words…a hole that is unrefillable... whatever we thought was real a hoax --- Continuously...effectively, you have carved that “denial” and “wishful thinking”... “For a time, when a child dies, parents also lose reminiscence of birth and birthday parties, Christmas joys,” --- Great ending...you have summarized that great pain and lose. I am moved beyond my place on how this pain will continuously haunt the parents as long as those special dates and days will come... I am not a parent yet but the joy and happiness a child brings especially your own is truly a treasure that is priceless...and to lose this without your control is truly unbearable. How I can imagine this... Thank you for sharing this message...this may be personal or not but for this coming from a parent yourself is truly a wonderful read...thanks for letting us readers peek through your window. “and tucking in... except that final one” --- Touching...I find this very personal...and sweet...sweet sweet lose.... As always, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2005-01-12 21:18:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, you capture too well what often crosses my mind, sometimes haunts me. The loss of children, the need for closure, and how do I continue with that ghost constantly on my mind. It is incomprehensible, yet it is quite real. Stanza 1 is the remainder, there we search for "with our wishes" the one that is gone, on tombstones if we are fortunate, but in many places of tsunami and in the unmarked mass graves of the murdered the remainders are without that support, and can only speak, or wish, from their soul without the substance of final resting places. Smell is associated with the strongest memory recall, and certainly, I can imagine that were such a loss to impact my life, that everywhere I go, everything I do would bring back the deep seated memories of love and caring. No instant's seamed enough; all moments held burst like water balloons-- "sodden colors shrunken, to the size of small skulls" - How can one bring to life such death, but your words do. Having lost a child I never came to know, I cannot imagine the greater loss, of a child that I have had years to know and love. Joanne, I am not sure what I'd lose with a child, memory wise, but indeed, I have no doubt that the last encounter/s or the last encounter/s missed or botched, would be burned into my soul. This piece is too poignant for me, and far to powerful for me to dwell on. Unfortunately you have sold this piece, too well for my well being. "and tucking in... except that final one"

This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2005-01-12 00:34:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.40000
Joanne, the last stanza would melt an iceberg. You again share your solace with a wonderful paintbrush. I cannot imagine that pain, but you can almost feel the anguish of the loss of children from disasters as of late. What trials thoes folks are going through. Should make us thankful, as my daughters say, 24/7. Thanks foranother touching piece. Peace, Paul PS still working on final verbiage/replacement for aglow..

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2005-01-10 14:46:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Beautifully written with very sad undertones of a parents grief, never really haing a child go through the stages, to have them wipes from the face of the earth, but never from the loving memories...what if? So sorrowful and fitting at this time in the world....to have children die early. I can't help but think of all the cildren who will never, and you write it so fittingly...never enough time, so all we are lest with is the memories. You know Joanne I understand why you wrote this, as a Mother who will never know joys of the future, but still remember a child lost, fitting, and very appropriate.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2005-01-10 09:56:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, this piece is truly touching. Since I've moved to N. Chicago, I've made a new friend, another military spouse, whose oldes daughter committed suicide a few weeks before we arrived. God has allowed us to connect, and we often discuss what happened with her daughter. Losing a child is devastating, and I've always imagined that it's almost impossible to shake the feelings of loss and the grieving. I think that your poem illustrates the reality that you never stop grieving for the part of you that has gone from this world. You capture all of the feelings in a very poetic way that I believe are imagined by many. Writing about it whenever you want and for as long as you want is your privilege. My friend's daughter wrote poetry, and I have shared a good deal of my poetry with her as well. I will probably share your poem with her at some point as I believe that she agrees with every sentiment that you write in this poem. Thanks for sharing this one. It was more than touching. Latorial www.latorialfaison.com

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2005-01-09 17:35:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Joanne, Your poem could not be more timely considering all the grieving parents of the Tsunami. I think of what these people are dealing with, and I can not even fathom the emotional misery of not being able to find your own child, not being able to hold and comfort them or even to find them and bid them a final farewell. My heart breaks for them. My thoughts of late are filled with pictures of parents sifting through a sea of bodies and the horror of not being able to tell if they're yours or not because of the decay. My prayers are for the survivors to have the strength to go on and that they will be able to survive the disease that will no doubt spread unavoidably. Your poem touches me in so many ways. I use to try to tell myself that because I had an abortion, I had no right to grieve my baby's death. I punished myself in so many ways. It took me years to get beyond that denial. My baby has no coffin, no grave, no headstone, holds no memories of joyful birth, parties or tucking in and for years did not even have a name. But I do remember her and mourn the loss of her. Her name is Melinda meaning gentle one. The realization of what I lost led me on a path to repentance and acceptance. Your careful wording in this poem is evidence of your knowledge of loss. I can only thank you for writing these words as it feels as if you are writing them for every parent who ever lost a child and yet for me and me alone. (the result of the special gift you have with words). I would like to tell you more of what I gleaned from your wording. But at this moment to do more then appreciate your gentle, loving words reaching out to me and others would be unnecessary. So thank you and maybe later I can say more. Blessings, Jennifer

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2005-01-09 15:24:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
JoUp,Em, LL: I can think of no more somber, sobering thought than the loss of a child. And while I will suggest a title change, this reader wantd to skulk away into a corner in a corner snd be left alone. I have not experienced the horror as you have but I can relate to the feeling of being bereft, of the swift death of someone I loved. The poem for me lacks the passion I have seen before when you've written anbout the loss of Mark. This one feels held at arms length and you keep your detachment until the end. This seems more of a scientific experiment. Or a psychistric report to the JAMA. Since in your art, you say exactly what you choose, I know this is also chosen with great care. (I love the phrase: "No instant's seamed enough."). So with all the words at your command and diapatch, you title this "On The Grief of Parents". I see this manuever is to convey to a reader that this is more prose, an article perhaps, etc. This essay-like piece is highly disturbing, coming from our best poet. If I found in additional notes that Anna Kubler-Ross and come up with one more step we need to fulfill to quell th4e grief, I could understand but from you, Dumbstruck in Dallas!! I obviously missed the ferry here, mi corazon, and it would help enormously if you threw me a lifejsacket. Best always,MELL

This Poem was Critiqued By: Wanda S. Thibodeaux On Date: 2005-01-09 15:13:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Joanne, In response to this poem, this heartfelt dedication, I must tell you something that happened two years ago, a direct message- there for seeing and believing and yet it took 38 years for it to be disclosed as the truth it is. It came with the help from a child. You remember I wrote about Ferris, my brother, who died at eleven. He had drawn an unbelievable picture of Christ the day before his death. This picture brought great comfort to all of us and my mother held it dear. On that same day he drew Christ, he also drew a picture of the church we attended. It was absolutely beautiful, we treasured it also, made postcards, Christmas cards using that picture. I named my first son after hiim and my second son named his son after his brother so we have two more Ferris names. I decided to tell my grandson, at 11, the story of Ferris, what he was like and show him the pictures. He was very interested, having the same name and as he listened and studied the pictures, he began to observe different things about them. I was speechless when he asked me why Ferris had drawn the hole-what hole, I took the picture to see what he saw and there for all of these years has been even further truth that GOD is real and compassionate, for there in the exact spot where he was buried was an almost heart shaped circle representing a hole (as my grandson said) and marking the spot where he would lay. It is very recognizable that a grave is what he meant to depict, because there was no grave there until his. He drew this the day before he died and he was trying to leave the message to those who loved him so much that he would be fine, he was being welcomed with open arms. I know this is long for a critique and isn't a critique at all. I just wanted to share this true story. Since that day, I have felt I have something tangible (even) to hold onto. My grandson does not realize the magnitude of his visual discovery. I spoke to each of my siblings, they all checked their picture, amazed that none of us caught the meaning of what he had drawn. I know that he was led to do these drawings. You are so right. "No instant's seamed enough," our joy finds escape, leaving our lives void of color. Your last verse is poignant, brings tears. This poem brought back a lot of memories. You're a gifted writer. My best always Wanda

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2005-01-08 12:23:38
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Joanne, This somber and heartfelt poem brought tears to my eyes...the loss of a child is unimaginable to me. The loss of any loved one is full of grief but to lose a child is life altering. 'We explore never ending time for carved sequences inscribed with someones' name.but those are not their bones...the ones we search for' This is one of the most gut wrenching lines I have read in a long time...perhaps because I know that your grief remains abosolute...'bones burried with our wishes'..your hopes and those of those who grieve for their child are burried in the ground and suddenly become just a memory unfullfilled....'whatever we thought was real...a hoax' there is profound sadness and depressing disapointment in this line. We all want so much for our children and if we are robbed of that dream it is difficult to go on...but go on we must....'parents lose reminiscence of birth and birthday parties, Christmas joys, and tucking in..except that final one.' I have to admit that I was glad this poem was rather short as I could not quit reading it and could not help but feel your pain with every word. It is a wonderful piece for all grieving parents and if I did not know you I would have thought just that. Instead I knew you were writing your own despair and I wanted to reach out, beyond this typed page, hold you, and assure you that your son is fine and he wants you to get past your grief. Of course we both know how impossible that is as the sadness becomes part of our being and we visit it often even if it is on an unconcious level. I am having back surgery on the
th and I wish I could have my husband beside me until I know I am o.k.....and maybe he will be. Another well crafted and tender poem and congrats on being TPL's number one poet...you so deserve that honor. Blessings...Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-01-07 17:45:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Joanne, The seamed/should be seemed... I feel the heart's pain of losing a child. I could never imagine the sorrow. When anyone dies it affect everyone and everything. A drop in the pool of life still makes a ripple. Everything changes. Everythings different from before. Thats why the actions and rightness of each of us is so vital. We affect others. By our actions by our speech, by our poetry. We never know to what extent it all matters but I'm positive it would be overwhelming. By you writing, sharing your soul/your goodnesss and love it enhances us and helps us handle our trials. God bless you Joanne. Very loving, heartfelt poem. Very very wonderfull. You may still tuck in/in your heart at night/in your soul in prayer/in your memorys you cherish. In each word you speak/in the ones you inspire/in the love you share. Your mission is such, God bless, Dellena

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