I did not write this poem. It was shared with me about a year ago and I love it because it is very TRUE. Don't forget: you can still enter the giveaway for my book. What is a question you have always wanted to ask a grieving parent? No question is too off the wall! Follow this link to enter the giveaway. Contest ends June 1.
What People Give You
Long-faced irises. Mums.
Pink roses and white roses
and giant sunflowers,
and hundreds of daisies.
Fruit baskets with muscular pears,
and water crackers and tiny jams
and the steady march of casseroles.
And money,
people give money these days.
Cards, of course:
the Madonna, wise
and sad just for you,
Chinese cherry blossoms,
sunsets and moonscapes,
and dragonflies for transcendence.
People stand by your sink
and offer up their pain:
Did you know I lost a baby once,
or My eldest son was killed,
or My mother died two months ago.
People are good.
They file into your cartoon house until it bows at the seams;
they give you every
blessed
thing,
everything,
except your daughter back.
"What People Give You" by Kathleen
Sheeder Bonanno, from Slamming Open the Door. © Alice James Books, 2009.
What People Give You
by Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno
Long-faced irises. Mums.
Pink roses and white roses
and giant sunflowers,
and hundreds of daisies.
Fruit baskets with muscular pears,
and water crackers and tiny jams
and the steady march of casseroles.
And money,
people give money these days.
Cards, of course:
the Madonna, wise
and sad just for you,
Chinese cherry blossoms,
sunsets and moonscapes,
and dragonflies for transcendence.
People stand by your sink
and offer up their pain:
Did you know I lost a baby once,
or My eldest son was killed,
or My mother died two months ago.
People are good.
They file into your cartoon house until it bows at the seams;
they give you every
blessed
thing,
everything,
except your daughter back.