Monday, June 1, 2009

A midnight poem

Tonight, as I lay in bed reading my crappy book, Sam brought up our incredibly stressful lawyer/lawsuit, which I cannot discuss openly on this blog. Let's just say, I was in a car accident at 29 weeks pregnant. Lucy died at 38 weeks pregnant. I hired a lawyer at the time to protect me in case Lucy died. He hasn't returned our call in over a month. I haven't the energy to deal with this shit. Last time I talked to him directly on the phone he gave me excuse number 248, and verbally berated me. He gives lawyers a bad name, and yet, somehow I haven't the energy even to fire him. I want this over. I am not strong, despite what my last post might have suggested. I wanted to give love to someone I care about, but I haven't always got a backbone, or an ounce of strength left.

Today, Sam and I took Beatrice and Jack to a little park we found once riding our bike. It was beautiful, and for those moments hiking, I found myself wholly present. I was sort of happy, and I let Sam take my picture with Bea. And it is the first picture I have seen of myself since Lucy died that doesn't physically make me cringe, even without makeup. Maybe it is because I don't look horribly sad. I just look old and tired, but not exactly broken. I am all about not being broken.

We came home and took a family nap and then went for a family run. In all, it worked out to be a beautiful day, and then, there I was, sitting in bed thinking I'm not sure I will ever sleep thinking about Lucy's death and lawyers.

And so, at almost midnight, I am sitting up watching crappy television trying to forget all that is lurking in my life that I wish would end. Colleen, my high school friend and the woman currently editing my poetry, sent me this poem tonight. It is beautiful and sad, and somehow a perfect ending to this beautiful day. And so, I share it with you.

Child Burial
by Paula Meehan

(I hope I am attributing this correctly.)

Your coffin looked unreal,
fancy as a wedding cake.

I chose your grave clothes with care,
your favourite stripey shirt,

your blue cotton trousers.
They smelt of woodsmoke, of October,

your own smell was there too.
I chose a gansy of handspun wool,

warm and fleecy for you. It is
so cold down in the dark.

No light can reach you and teach you
the paths of the wild birds,

the names of the flowers,
the fishes, the creatures.

Ignorant you must remain
of the sun and its work,

my lamb, my calf, my eaglet,
my cub, my kid, my nestling,

my suckling, my colt. I would spin
time back, take you again

within my womb, your amniotic lair,
and further spin you back

through nine waxing months
to the split seeding moment

you chose to be made flesh
word within me.

I'd cancel the love feast
the hot night of your making.

I would travel alone
to a quiet mossy place,

you would spill from me into the earth
drop by bright red drop.

from the above website with permissions from The Gallery Press, Loughcrew, Oldcastle, County Meath, Ireland from The Man Who Was Marked By Winter, 1991

© Copyright 2000-2004 by West by<


  1. You are beautiful, and I am glad you had a beautiful day. I also experience this oscillation betw peace and grief, it is do draining. ((hugs)) I send you strength, esp having to deal with lawyers.

    Thanks for sharing the poem. It took my breath away.

  2. That poem touched me deep into my soul. It touched me in places that I didnt know even existed. Thank you for posting this beautiful work.

    I'm so glad you had a better day, better than others anyway. A family day at the park sounds so nice right about now.

  3. Oh my goodness, that poem was incredible. Thanks for sharing. And what a gorgeous pair you two make. Thank for sharing that as well.

  4. A very moving poem - thank you for posting it.

    And you are beautiful. Truly beautiful. xxx

  5. A beautiful poem, and a beautiful pic of you and bea. much love as always

  6. Angie - a very beautiful and powerful poem. I am in awe...

    Your picture is gorgeous. Thank you for sharing.

  7. Wow - that is some poem. Sad... I love the photo of you two. You look so relaxed and pretty. I like how the sun light pops off of you!

  8. Beautiful, Angie. Much love to you.

  9. Hi Angie!

    I ended up here when looking for poetry. I'm very touched by your family's history. It is really very sad and I'm sorry about it - my condolences for you all.

    The poem is very discussion about that.

    But really like to say that you are more and more strong than you can imagine. You have no idea of this. You are going on with your family and for going strength is required. The description of your day in the park, that's strength. All of us have to move on!

    All of you are very strong and from now I will be around!

    We have to stand up and anywhere...

    Best regards for you and your family!!


    P.S.: by the way, Breatice is my favourite name. It is from long time ago and I wish I have a daughter named like this...

  10. What a touching poem.. thank you so much for sharing!

    The picture of you and Bea looks so sweet! We have a picture of Shaun, Gwen and I around Halloween.. and whenever I look at that picture, just a month after Dresden died.. I always think, how we look happy but if you really look, deep into our eyes, you can see that the light has been snatched away from them.

  11. You look so pretty and happy! And look at Bea's cute little face!

  12. Oh, Angie. I had no idea you also had an accident prior to Lucy dying. I hope that the lawsuit is resolved soon, so you can close that chapter (the accident) of your life. It's certainly adding yet another stressor for you.


  13. beautiful and powerful poem. and i love seeing you and bea...glad that you had a good day...sending you love

  14. I'm sorry you have a lawsuit to deal with on top of all of this. I had no idea.

    Beautiful pic of you and Bea.



What do you think?