The purpose of writing

This week we buried my grandmother.

It has not been an easy time and there have been numerous familial clashes, misunderstandings and raising of voices as emotions have been running so high. There have also been crowded rooms, hugs with people who do not normally hug, time in church, discoveries of old graves, wonder at burial mechanics by future engineers as well as careful sorting of all of the sentimental treasures.

One thing I’m grateful for is writing.

While tangled in all the feelings, in all the overwhelm – words were able to give me a release. Some of it remains private, scribbled in haste to stop the pot boiling over and some words formed themselves into a poem that could give us all solace and honour her too. I wrote a poem for her and i am grateful that I was able to share it at her funeral.

Words have powerful work to do and the purpose of writing is to put them to work. Whether it is blogging to share thinking, writing narratives and memoirs to share stories, recipes to share feasts or poetry to capture and express the hard things that are hard to feel.

Here is my poem I wrote for her:

You deserve a poem

You deserve a poem.
You wove things,
you made things,
you grew things,
relentlessly you things.
You glazed things
and fired things
slip cast and knit things.
You wore things
Relentlessly your things.
Never drab,
your window – ultramarine
blue bottles and lithops
living stones, aventurine…
and your travelers’ trinkets
so specifically collected
so specially specific from beyond the Pacific.
And so you.
So you made things
and you leave things,
and you’ve left things
now bereft things.
Much more than warp and weft things,
more than the stories and fibres woven,
more than all, more than ever,
you deserve a poem.

She wove this blanket for us when she heard that we had an orange couch. She was an expert colorist making her own dyes, spinning her own yarn and weaving such amazing things.

It isn’t much but it is something I can do. It is my way of connecting with her and honoring her. Writing is something I can do. I only wish I could have shared it with her before she died, rather than after.

♥️ for more of my poetry you can connect with me at @parentpoet on Instagram.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s