Memento Mori

When my mother died
I did not succumb to grief
rather the opposite, it was relief

I wanted to be overwhelmed
to demonstrate a filial flow of tears
dry eyes triumphed over social fears

The truth is her life was set in aspic
the repertoire of stories repeatedly told
the only objects I would have valued, long ago sold

So if I imagine that feeling as a place
it is a saccharine sitting room
as stuck and unchanging as a tomb

I carried bits of it away to remind me
a group of disparate ducks now grace my bookshelf
tiny, sculptural memento mori – notes to self

that she was gone and feeling ended
long before the final breath was drawn
and being now the eldest, I entered a new dawn…

© Andrew Wilson, 2024

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, Punam invites us to write about Grief – paeansunplugged in Poetics. My poem is about grief long dissolved before the loss itself and I hope I will not be judged harshly for it…

14 thoughts on “Memento Mori

  • August 1, 2024 at 3:50 pm
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    I love the title, Andrew. Sometimes we do forget it. Why should you be judged harshly for the way you reacted to your mom’s passing away. There is always a story behind a poem.
    I love your use of ‘set in aspic’ and ‘ saccharine sitting room’.

    Thanks for sharing.

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    • August 1, 2024 at 11:17 pm
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      Thank you, Punam, sometimes a life just runs out of any forward motion and after my Dad died, that was my Mother…

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      • August 3, 2024 at 8:47 am
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        You are welcome, Andrew. I know what you mean. I have seen my aunt after the death of her husband and it was like you describe .

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  • August 1, 2024 at 6:13 pm
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    HI Andrew, I can relate to this poem. A feeling of relief at someone’s passing. People can become very unhappy and difficult as they age. Maybe it is because they have regrets or because they have constant pain. I’m not sure, but I hope I will never be like that.

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    • August 1, 2024 at 11:18 pm
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      It was not so much unhappiness as vacancy, Robbie, but I too hope I never become as you describe…

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  • August 1, 2024 at 10:28 pm
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    Like Robbie, I can also relate, and I love how you have given yourself grace about it. The ducks are there to honor, perhaps, but also to remind, and echo what Robbie has said about not wanting to ever be like that. This is a powerful poem.

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    • August 1, 2024 at 11:19 pm
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      Thank you Kim, and I do have great affection for the ducks…

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  • August 4, 2024 at 3:44 pm
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    Oh my! I had the very same feelings at my own mother’s passing. There’s no understanding why she held on so long. Perhaps hope really does spring eternal.

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    • August 4, 2024 at 10:11 pm
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      Thank you, Kay, I thought my lack of breast rending was unusual but it seems to have struck a chord for which I am relieved…

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  • August 4, 2024 at 7:13 pm
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    Honest and true to hearts that have felt like yours, Andrew. Time doesn’t always measure the moment of a relationship’s death and its attendant grief. Written with poetic acuity and force.

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    • August 4, 2024 at 10:12 pm
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      Thank you so much Dora, I have been much reassured by the kind comments of everyone…

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  • August 5, 2024 at 2:13 pm
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    Yes, she went long before she went in so many ways. In that it robs us of the grief at the time of physical departure. I’m in that space right now. This speaks loudly to my experience.

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    • August 5, 2024 at 2:15 pm
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      So sorry to hear that Paul – glad it helped…

      Reply

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