In March, I wrote a blog about fentanyl that featured a poem by Carol Bialock: Breathing Under Water. I knew almost nothing about the author other than that she was clearly a deep thinker and an excellent poet. After that post, I was contacted by Fernwood Press, to let me know that for Carol’s upcoming 90th birthday, they were publishing a collection of her poems.
I have since learned more about this remarkable woman who was a sister of the Society of the Sacred Heart in Chile and a lifelong activist for human rights. (To learn more about her, please go to www.CarolBialock.com.) I want to share some highlights from Coral Castles, her newly published book.
I am no poet and I confess, I struggle when reading most poetry – I do better hearing a Continue reading “Poetry – for all our needs”
I am surprised when, although it has been over four years since our son died of a heroin overdose, memories surface and grief follows. The surprise comes because the memories seem to come ‘out of the blue’, from no particular trigger and for no particular reason.
My husband just had a memory that was triggered when he heard our seven year old granddaughter express trepidation over seeing a bird that had died and fallen into the back yard. It was as if our son was seven again, full of wonder and normal childhood fears. His voice, his emotions, him.
I have had memories of our son as I’ve been working in our daughter’s garden or driving to the grocery store. JL as a young adult, just his face in some everyday interaction, triggering the sadness that he is no longer on this earth, part of our life, living the life that most 29 year olds are living.
It seems that memories don’t need a reason to rise to the surface from out of our hearts. Our son has been in our hearts since the day he was born and he continues to live there. It is the strongest ‘evidence’ we have that life does not stop after we die and physically leave the land of the living. We are eternal beings and I am very thankful for that.