Poetry for Loss of Spouse

Hope others will share any poetry you've written or others have that speaks to you (please identify the author so we can look for more by those that resonate with us) on this thread. As we know, the loss is beyond words. I have found that poetry - the rhythms, the visuals, and mostly what is left unsaid residing there between the lines and words - has enabled me to express much of what I need to. From the other night:

"8:45 pm"
Light still glows
In the western sky
A voice softly calling
I'm still here
To walk with you
In your dreams
To rise again
With you
Tomorrow
Tomorrow
Who knows what it will bring?
I know
But it is for you to see
What you will
(Carla White)

 

Carla, your poem is beautifully touching
& captures how I feel about Linda. She
may not be next to me physically, but
is with me in spirit every day & night .


Are you able to listen to music now?
I couldn't at first without sobbing.,One
morning , I played a sassy, upbeat
blues song by Muddy Waters, Hootchie
Cootchie Man, & it made me smile. That
broke the ice, and I've listened to songs
on my Smart Phone ever since. Lou

 

Bill Lathrop (2021)


We, Too


Was I born just to meet you...?

Was I born just to know you…?

Was I born just to love you…?

Do I only exist just because of you…?

If you had not entered my life, would I even walk this earth with you as my Wife…

(Start here and Repeat below the 2nd time through)

You are the reason I took my first breath…

And I am sure you will be with me when I draw my last...at my death.

I have survived these many years because you have walked with me…

Together…and soon, forever...free...

You are the reason why I wake each day…

You shine brightly before me in every way…

You are the reason that I choose to stay…

You are the reason I exist…

You are the reason I cannot resist my destiny that awakens when I think of you...

And reveals a portal where the true meaning of love shines through...

No matter where I am or what I do...When I just think of you...

Only you…only You…The best we have for each other is what is due...

But For Me... It’s Only God, me, and You...just our Maker... and... We... Too...

We, Too

 

These words will soon be converted into a song.

 

Music heals.

 

Bill, So good to see you posting. I’ve always loved your writing. Thank you for sharing! ❤️ Robin

 

Bill, I read your jazz musician history
on your info profile. It's an honor to
meet you. Although I don't play an
instrument myself , I have a good friend,
my age of 72, who is a drummer, & can
play the harp, & sing the blues, with
band members, in our local cafe. I live
across the country from you, on the
northern coast of Massachusetts. My
wife, Linda, of 25 years, died suddenly
before Thanksgiving, 3 & a half years
ago. She was 68. After she died, I couldn't
listen to ANY song without weeping. As I
said on here before, one morning , I
listened to the upbeat, sassy blues song,
Hootchie Cootchie Man, by Muddy
Waters, & it made me smile. I asked my
drummer friend to use his drums to the
beat of Muddy's song, on my Smart
Phone. Looking forward to your poetry
and music. Lou

 

Likewise. A real honor to meet you Bill, sending you an extra strong handshake. As I just said in another thread, my husband had a special admiration for jazz musicians, he loved following piano jazz tutorials on the website, I remember his beautiful smile, looking up at me asking: 'Well, what do you think, am I good? ".

 

Rose, that's so touching about your
husband & how the 2 of you played
music together. I woke up in the
middle of the night , after 1:30 am here,
and found you. I took classical music
lessons on my family's piano, until I
was 15, & stopped. When I played a
particular short, sad prelude by Chopin,
my old piano teacher excitedly told my
parents that he was moved by my
sensitivity on the keyboard. I was even
in recitals. But, I envied those who could
play popular songs, by request, without
using sheet music, just "by ear". Now, I
request songs from a friend who plays
piano at our local club. Good to see you
on here early this am, Rose. I'm so glad
you're staying with us on GIC. You
are a valuable member. Now. I must go
back to sleep......... Lou

 

I love this one by Pablo Neruda:

When I die I want your hands on my eyes
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me one more time
to feel the smoothness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep,
I want for your ears to go on hearing the wind,
for you to smell the sea that we loved together
and for you to go on walking the sand where we walked.

I want for what I love to go on living
and as for you I loved you and sang you above everything,
for that, go on flowering, flowery one,

so that you reach all that my love orders for you,
so that my shadow passes through your hair,
so that they know by this the reason for my song.

 

Rose,I choked up at the lines, "I want for
your ears to go on hearing the wind, for
you to smell the sea that we loved
together". It's an unseasonably cool, but
sunny day here. The waves , at high
tide, are particularly majestic, & I
imagine Linda's thrill in seeing them.
The soothing sound & distinct smell of
the ocean is invigorating as I walk
along. When I sit on the same bench
at the beach, upon which Linda & I sat,
gazing out to sea , I feel her presence
strongly. Thank you, Rose. Lou

 

Lou, it was CPW who posted this beautiful poem.
I agree, brings tears to my eyes and gives me comfort and hope, and a reason to carry on in this 'non life' I'm going through.

 

Thank you, Rose. My mistake. I will
tell Carla. Lou

 

Carla, thank you for your moving poem.
I thanked Rose by mistake. Please read my
reply about the Neruda poem, which
brought tears to my eyes. Lou

 

One Art
By Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
So many things seems filled with the intent
to be lost that their lost is not disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the cluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None if these will bring disaster.

I lost my mothers watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three lived houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but wasn't a disaster.

-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shanty have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

 

Bill,

It's so nice to "see" you again. You were one of the first persons to answer my messages when I first found this site. I'll never forget your kindness, and the very beautiful songs you wrote and shared with me, with all of us, in memory of your wife. Your songs and lyrics are so moving, they brought me to tears, but I kept playing them over and over and over again... , I couldn't stop crying... The love for your wife shines through in your music...

At 3:45 a.m tomorrow morning, it'll be 13 months since my husband, Bob passed away. I'm still not able to listen to music without totally falling apart, especially songs that had special meaning for us as a couple. It SUCKS!!! living in (mostly) a world without music!!!, TUTTAM!!! (Total Understatement To The Absolute Max!!!)

Around the tenth month anniversary of Bob's death, but mostly around the year anniversary of his death, I found some of my creativity was beginning to return. I used to love decorating houses, and have begun turning this house into a home (Bob and I moved here at about the same time his health began rapidly spiraling downhill, only at the time of the move, we weren't aware that the darkest days of our lives were approaching.) We remodeled it prior to moving, and Bob designed the walk in closet off of our master bathroom (He was going to do the work himself after we moved in, but had to ask a neighbor to do it instead).

The changes we made reflected our personalities in our choices of color, distressed wide board flooring, and cabinets. We went to the factory and picked out the quartzite slab used to make the counter tops in the kitchen and bathrooms. However, the house was just a "shell," needing all those personal touches that make a house, a home. We never got around to shopping for all those personal touches, pictures, lamps, a hutch to display some of our favorite possessions, etc, etc. etc. Instead, I became Bob's full time caregiver, and our house was quickly filled with DME. Now that some of my creativity has started to return, I've been turning this house into a home, a home that reflects both of our personalities. Without Bob here with me physically, it's so very bittersweet, but I know he would want me to move forward, to heal, to do my very best to enjoy whatever time I have remaining on this earth, until that very moment when I'll be reunited with him again.

I used to love to read, but for many months following Bob's death, I wasn't able to retain much of anything. The only books I was interested in were books on grieving. Last week, a friend who is also a widow, gave me a "beachy" kind of read, no real thinking necessary. Although I have to reread a page or two every now and then, my love of reading is back.

I used to love to write, but not any more. I still have trouble expressing myself on paper. Very recently, I began experiencing what Karen, a GIC friend, refers to as "flickers of light." Although they're fleeting, "flickers of light" are helping me realize I'm healing, and are helping me look forward to the future, instead of dreading it. They happen during ordinary moments... when I'm outside, enjoying nature, some of God's most beautiful creations... old oak trees draped in Spanish Moss, butterflies, flowers, a gorgeous blue sky..., lots of bright sunshine... Suddenly, I feel a sense of calm wash over me..., a peaceful feeling..., everything is right in the world, even if only for a brief moment. These "flickers of light" are giving me hope that as I continue to heal, I'll be able to enjoy writing again..., music again... I hope it happens soon. Living in a world without music, is like living in a world without color..., a beige existence... (Thanks again, Lou, for sharing one of Linda's phrases, which I've adopted, and has now become one of my favorite phrases, with all of us!!!), it SUCKS!!!, TUTTAM!!!

I didn't intend to make this border on one of my "books as Lou and I refer to my very L O N G!!! posts. Before I continue to ramble on and on and on, maybe even outlasting that Energizer Bunny, I'm stopping here.

Once again, it was so good to "see" you again. I hope you'll stick around and continue to share your very beautiful music and heartfelt lyrics with us.

Sending you hugs and love, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Trees lift their murmured secrets
On a warm breeze
Peepers and birds call sweetly
The neighbors' wind chimes ring
In harmony
The cat ignores my repeated
Calls
From the porch
Oh yeah - she's inside
Open the window by her head where
She lounges
Sunset on the cove
Beckons me outside
Again
How you would love this night.

 

beautifully captured…
thank you for sharing