Saturday, March 15, 2008

Haiku Friday 3/14/08

Haiku Friday


I won't smoke today,
smoke free day two-seven-one (271)
don't even want to.


March fourteenth again
now already thirteen years
miss my mom today.

Lou Gehrig's Disease,
unwelcome diagnosis
invaded our lives.

Not to be all sad
but it's a very bad one
in case you don't know.

Imprisoned by it:
paralyzed body, but the
mind fully aware.

Truly hell on earth,
not wished on worst enemy,
just so heartbreaking.

I could explain more
I even kind of want to;
too heavy, too sad.

If you are inclined
see the link up there above;
I had no idea.

Since it lasted years,
for too long I remembered
sick version of mom.

Ah, but you all know
that's not *at all* who she was
that was just the end.

My mom was happy,
crazy, mischievous, and fun,
full of life and love.

My mom was just real,
never any pretenses
she was who she was.

I am so grateful
I remember her this way
instead of as sick.

It's taken me years
healing slowly as I go
to get to this point.

Grief is a process,
but it can be beautiful
in spite of sadness.

(I can't explain that.
Maybe it's like that for me
but not for others.

Different people
all grieve in different ways;
each way is normal.)

Thank you all so much
who commented yesterday;
it did mean a lot.

I wrote it for me,
a place I can remember
whenever I need...

...but it was nice, too,
sharing Mom with all of you,
letting you know her.

'Course I feel cheated
Motherless Daughter and all,
but then there is this...

...Not a day goes by
that I don't think of my mom,
and feel very blessed.

Blessed because I know
I won the Mom lottery;
not everyone does.

Last night for dinner
I made my mom's favorite;
woke up two pounds more.

I ask you all now,
how is it that that is fair?
Really shouldn't count.

Time to wind this down,
but it's hard to stop writing;
like saying goodbye.

At the funeral,
I mostly did pretty well
until I realized...

...almost suddenly,
this was the very last time
I would see my mom.

I had a meltdown,
kneeing and crying too loud
next to the casket.

I then overheard
one person ask another,
whisper'd "who is that?"

The person replied,
"That is her daughter, Maggie."
That explained my scene.

I didn't know then,
that I would somehow go on,
that I'd be OK.

Since then I've lost more
('nother post for 'nother day),
but mem'ries are mine...

...and I'm so grateful
I remember to see Mom
living on through me.

Well, OK, then, now,
can't keep writing forever,
time to say goodbye.


  1. I'm crying so hard right now. I can't imagine this day. But like I said before, I am completely and utterly convinced that she must have been an incredible person...because you are. What an amazing tribute Maggie.

    *big hug*

  2. I don't know which one of you was the more blessed, you for having her as a Mom or her for having you as a Daughter. Probably Both, you had each other.

  3. I'm crying. I'm so scared to loose my mom. She is battling some pretty serious stuff, and I just don't know how I would be able to handle it.
    What a gorgeous tribute to your mother.

  4. I'm so sorry. What a beautiful haiku to honor your mother.

  5. Maggie, I have read that book 'motherless daughters' several times myself. In fact, I think it was shortly after my mom was killed that I started smoking regularly.
    My heart goes out to you for your loss. Look how strong it's made us.

  6. Oh, Lord. You have me tearing up. I agree. Grief is a never ending process. It comes and goes but never goes away. I am glad you remember the good as well as the bad. You sound like you truly appreciate what she gave you.

  7. Oh Maggie.. dear Maggie... I'm so sorry for your pain.. I really love your love...your Mom loves it, too!

  8. That was just so beautiful and heartfelt, M. You have such a raw talent - your words, haiku and not, put me right there in your shoes. I cannot imagine losing my mom, but I felt your pain there.

  9. Oh Maggie, my heart breaks for you. I've read a few articles on Lou Gehrig's and it truly sounds like the worst possible diagnosis.

    I will be praying for you over the next few days.


  10. I don't know what to say. I know there's nothing I can say to comfort you, especially since I have no experience of my own to compare it to. Your Haiku is a beautiful, heartfelt tribute to your mother. I thank you for sharing it with us.


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