Friday, January 31, 2014

Form for All: Prose/Poetry—Farewells



When I first saw my mother's ashes in a gray, shiny plastic container, and noticed the squared edges, I knew that angst lay ahead — not from the emotion of the soon-to-be scattering-at-sea, as that would provide a release for me as well as for those dry crumbled pieces of her — but from the realization that there would be remains remaining in the edges and corners inside, clinging statically (as she had clung to life), quietly expecting my solution.

After her wishes were honored and most of the last of her joined the gray whale that breached nearby our boat rocking on the wildest of November coastal swells I returned with the container to the town she loved, the charming village on Silver Creek, where, in another time, a robust flour mill busily hummed near its banks. And I squatted beside the clear running waters and swished and dunked the plastic box until all powder was freed and swirling away from me. Then I walked on through the old town park, satisfied.

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Written for dVerse Poets Pub Form for All, where host Samuel Peralta's beautiful (as ever) prompt discusses Prose/Poetry and ask us to contribute our own prose poem. This is Sam's farewell as a regular writer at dVerse, as he will be devoting his time to completing his book, Labyrinth Man. Sam is one of my favorite writers and I so look forward to reading more of his work in the future.

Best wishes and thank you for your perfect prompts and your kind and encouraging words, Sam!
Samuel Peralta – on Twitter as @Semaphore – is the award-winning author of five titles in The Semaphore Collection – Sonata Vampirica, Sonnets from the Labrador, How More Beautiful You Are, Tango Desolado and War and Ablution – all Amazon Kindle #1 Hot New Releases, and best sellers, in poetry. 
To be placed on his free list, The Writing Life, click here.

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Note: HD Image of Silver Creek by Thom R, My Oregon Photography Blog

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21 comments:

Brian Miller said...

wow, quite moving...the releasing of her ashes and how you handled as well the little pieces stil slinging to the corners bu going to the river a place a bit different than the rocking waves, almost a yin to the yang....well played lydia.....

Marina Sofia said...

Ashes to ashes, water to water - possibly more fitting for us humans than earth to earth... The picture of Silver Creek looks very idyllic. I hope you find peace with that.

Glenn Buttkus said...

In our family, cremation is the order of the day; no one likes to leave the burden of fancy funerals on their loved ones; leading to several scatterings of ashes that went awry; high winds in the mountains blowing the loved one back in your face, kind of an ashen kiss, and a sluggish river that put the ashes in an eddy, and circled them back to the shore twice. Your very well written prose poem put me in mind of these events; thanks.

Claudia said...

oh wow - i would love if my ashes would be strewn in the ocean... it's not allowed to do this over here...ugh.. i bet your mom would've loved that your really released everything that still clung to the edges as well

bwfiction said...

a good solution, an honest resolution.

Mary said...

This was a strong poem....this must have been difficult to do. I know it would have been difficult for you, though I know it was done out of love. I was moved by your telling of this.

Victoria` said...

This hit home. I am dealing with a 93 year old mother who is clinging to life. You wrote this with such an appropriate expression of emotion...understated but deep. Loved it.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

That is just beautiful!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

That is just beautiful!

Kate Mia said...

i suppose that is a way to cleanse a soul to regain a new life..of Love..with less of loss..and respect of love that remains in heart..forevermore..sorry for your loss..but happy for your love..:)

Björn said...

I think honoring her las wish an adding your own with those remains at another place was a great thing to do... The picture of the pieces of here clinging to the container was particularly strong and moving.

Lester Kish said...

It's simply amazing that one can hold the remnants of a life in a little metal box.

Helen said...

Dear Lydia,
Your poetry touched my heart deeply. My mother's ashes rest in a hand painted heavy ceramic cookie jar my oldest son gave to me years ago. Resting safely atop an armoire in our living room. During the holidays my daughter expressed a yearning to open the lid, look inside .. having never seen or felt ashes. It was extremely emotional for her .. and for me. She was my mother's first granddaughter, they were very close. Just yesterday I found a raku dream catcher vessel, very small, in which I have placed Mother's ashes .. a gift for my daughter.

Thank you for sharing ...

rosaria williams said...

This felt so private, so real, as though we were going along with you to scatter the ashes, to wash the urn...

kelvin s.m. said...

Touchingly brave story, Lydia. I wonder if I can ever do that, to let go of the ashes or remains of a deceased loved one. Thanks for sharing this tale.

Beachanny said...

I enjoyed this very much. The resolution was strong and emphatic. I have always eschewed the idea of cremation - it seems to defy what should happen naturally but this piece causes me to re-think it. Thank you.

susan said...

I remember the curves and weight of the white marble container that held my mother's ashes. She was very attached to the earth element throughout her life so in her case it was most fitting that her ashes were buried next to those of my father.

Your wonderful poem brought back those memories this evening.

Kathe W. said...

Thank you for sharing that very personal time with us-
I wish I could have had that moment with my mother.
Unfortunately my father had Neptune Society pick up her body from the hospital and cremate it with none of us there then nor when they then flew over the Nevada side of the Sierras and scattered her ashes with none of us present. It was like it he could not get rid of her fast enough.

Who Am Us Anyway? said...

This whole mortality thing is a trip, isn't it? My mom received my grandma's ashes in the mail, & opened the package not knowing what it was. On the one hand, the idea that we're all dying is a freak out, on the other hand, it's kind of a relief.

Rob-bear said...

Very matter of fact, but gentle and sensitive.

blessings and Bear hugs!

naomi dagen bloom said...

Especially moving. Btw, you have my vote for using your time to do what needs to be done rather than dutifully responding.

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