Some Things about December, Emilee, Mom, Our Wedding
December 5, 2018 /
Haiku for Blue
All I can hear is,
the rhythm of your voices,
breathing me to peace … nmk
My Em in December (my multipurpose anniversary and valentines day poem), guaranteed to get you what you need, but not necessarily what you want, for sale now, 30% off until midnight tonight, of course with the discount I have to take off a few of the lines of verse, but don’t worry, no one will ever know. Sale price is $500. For the next three hours, it is BOGO, with specific requests accepted. For example, below this one is the Release of the Eagle, the eagle having been rehabbed from multiple injuries back to health and released into the wild, and the video inspired the poem. Rhyme on.
This poem (Em in December) really is dedicated to my wife, to whom I not only proposed but also married in December 2000, as my mom was dying of uterine cancer. Although she suspected, we had not told her yet, as her wise doctor knew she would have gotten too depressed. “You will know when the time is right,” he had said. I was skeptical of how. That time wound up being about a week after our wedding. She died nineteen days after we were married, twelves days after the discussion about death and dying. The doctor was a wise person, in many ways.
Our wedding unfolded at my brother’s beautiful home. An all window arbor room looked out to woods and to Cold Spring harbor below us a half-mile away. The wedding day delivered large cascading snowflakes making a fairyland painting in a storybook setting. It was a joyous day amid the underlying drama of death unfolding.
Mom had to have her abdomen drained the day before to relieve pressure from fluid that was accumulating due to metastatic cancer cells in her abdominal cavity. It did nothing to taint our day. If anything, it added to the poignancy of life and treasuring each moment. Her intermittent beaming smile, and her valiant attempt to dance a little, remains a treasured picture etched in my memory. She struggled with discomfort which occasionally showed in brief moments on her face if anyone paid attention, yet I watched her determination to allow joy to present itself as the major player. She was a shining example of living in the moment that day.
We planned our wedding in twenty one days. A family friend, a radiation oncologist, had predicted my mom only had two months to live, and that was in mid-November. It is incredible the way so many things fell in place. I know we had extraterrestrial and all sorts of angelic and “passed over, crossed over” spiritual help. She died January 10, nineteen days after our wedding. Em died in January also, almost two years ago, on the thirty-first in 2017. She died the same date her dad had died three years earlier. A few hours apart. Within the acceptable window of time for angelic transporters to bring her to the correct location. I know they are all together. I have seen too many signs that have been sent to me on numerous occasions, to believe otherwise.
The Em in December
your hair is sun shining
your dance floats on notes
sailing through space
a dream all afloat
your smile warms my heart
glistening eyes’ sacred light
your hugs are my heaven
a lullaby’s delight
happy annivalentine’s day
Reach for the Sky (sanctuary release of a bald eagle)
Wing spread have I found,
I take your breath with me leaving from the ground,
I demonstrate my lift,
Given me for my gift,
If I could speak words ere I rise high above,
You’d hear me sing of all your love,
Listen my forlorn solitary cry,
Watch me sail through magnificent sky,
You cared for me like one of your own,
Your heart soars and breaks,
I feel you smile and moan,
Know now the shared spirit in you and me,
Is but a miracle of the Great One’s mystery.
Remember, sale ends at midnight. The carriage reverts to a pumpkin, and you know the rest.