I wrote this poem one Mothers’ Day several years after my mum had died. Recently I lost Arch, aged three, in the supermarket for about five panic-striken minutes. That experience has brought me back to this poem, re-living it, this time as the mum.
The night after my mother died
I lay in fear.
I am a child in a supermarket
Terrified
Searching for my mum
Between the aisles.
There she is.
In the sleepless dark
I toss between the faith
She would never abandon me
And her breathless body
Growing cold
In my hands.
That is so sad.
The poem you wrote is so deeply sad, and really touches that ever-present fear in us.I have been thinking about it since I read it and now I want to ask if that faith that she would never abandon you remained?
That’s a very good question Anne. I need to think about the answer.
What I can say is that even though it was sad at the time, I don’t feel sad about it any more.
Do I still hold the faith my mum would never abandon me? I don’t feel abandoned. I feel held in a great cosmic love of which my mother’s love, whether she is here with me or not, is a part.