Wednesday's Woe - Never-Ending Endings

Wednesday's Woe

Never-Ending Endings

Dreams, Nightmares: The Great ReEnactors

Of what would have been, should have been, or could...

More potent than nuclear reactors,

Re-living that last day when before him she stood...

For days after, you can count on it:

It awakens the angst of the tiger caged,

And yet this tiger's disabled to "pounce" on it,

Tasered by the agony that won't be assuaged.

Trying to let your daughter grow up,

Excited as she is to make decisions on her own,

Yet knowing her "dream" could be her "last cup,"

Checkmates the king ~ paralyzed to move to his throne.

You'd be "damned" if you do, "damned" if you don't,

Pushing your point home could push her away,

Yet, facing the fright: she might not come home...

If you can't have your father's rightful say...

Amidst the travail of the father's dilemma,

The daughter bounces into the room,

Leans over to hug and to kiss him,

Hoping her excitement will banish his gloom.

Unable to move from his paralyzed place,

He embraces his child as she last kisses his face...

pictures thanks to fotosearch.com

Poem - Never-Ending Endings - Angie Bennett Prince - 5/3/2011

Wednesday's Woe - Picking Up Pieces

Wednesday's Woe

Picking Up Pieces

In the middle of "tough love"

With my rambunctious baby girl,

Raising the bottom, not enabling,

So she could be safe in this world...

Now we're left picking up pieces

As the bottom fell out,

Our baby snatched away,

Without e'en a mommy's shout.

How are we to "go on"

When our hearts have dropped out?

Our baby girl's not here,

So what's our life about?

Damned if you do, damned if you don't,

Nothing we did seemed to help.

And yet Lord, she's with you

Though I whimper and yelp.

"Speak to her soul," You said that night.

I knew "her flesh" could not hear.

I spoke out of love; she did respond,

And now her spirit draws near...

***

My sincere condolences to grieving mother Katie Allison Granju whose 18-year-old son Henry died on May 31, 2010 from an apparent drug overdose and assault during a "drug deal gone bad." Evidently, this poor family is suffering repercussions even beyond their child's death as they feel the local authorities are not investigating thoroughly the death of their loved one...

Although the following fellow-blogger (http://mamapundit.com) lives in the vicinity of my own home of Knoxville, Tennessee, I did not know her and did not know about her son's death until I read about it in The New York Times' article yesterday, where there were subsequent comments by some of the Times' readers regarding Ms. Granju's public self-disclosure (on her blog) of her struggles with her son's addiction process, a harrowing process which ultimately led to his recent emergency hospitalization in which it was discovered he had severe brain damage.

When I read these New York Times comments regarding this mother's heart-breaking trauma, I was absolutely appalled. Many of these folks were downright denigrating in their view of her efforts to love her child in what is often a no-win parental nightmare of a child's drug abuse. In response to their many judgmental remarks (which were all over the map regarding what they felt she should have done), I flashed back to our own no-win dilemma in loving our baby girl amidst her own battles, and then wrote the above poem. You can read more about Ms. Granju's story in the Times article, http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/03/parenting-an-addicted-child/

Here is a June 2 post describing the events leading to Henry Granju's death from KnoxNews.com (the online version of the Knoxville newspaper, Knoxville News Sentinel) in their news post of June 2nd, 2010:

The Knox County Sheriff's Office is investigating the drug-related death of a Knoxville blogger's 18-year-old son, who died Monday.

In an online blog entry, Katie Allison Granju confirmed the death of her son, Henry Louis Granju, who had been in intensive care at the University of Tennessee Medical Center following an assault and subsequent drug overdose he suffered in April.

Katie Allison Granju is the director of digital and social media for Ackermann Public Relations. He also is the son of Chris Granju, Knox County's Director of Stormwater Management.

According to the Sheriff's Office, as well as a family member's account, Henry Granju was beaten and robbed by three assailants during an attempted drug buy in the parking lot of the Bi-Lo market, 2230 W. Governor John Sevier Highway, on April 26. Family members say a tire iron was used in the assault.

The attack left the victim bleeding from his ears, with a broken jaw, broken ribs and brain injury, said Robert Allison, Granju's uncle.

Allison claims Granju's injuries were complicated by a dose of methadone he was given later the same night by acquaintances, who didn't call E-911 on his behalf until the next morning.

Our prayers go with this grieving family,

Picture: "Being Taken Apart" by Charlie Lucas thanks to Joanna Cravey Hutt at http://spittingrits.blogspot.com/

Poem - Picking Up Pieces - Angie Bennett Prince - 6/8/10

http://mamapundit.com - blog of Katie Allison Granju

http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/03/parenting-an-addicted-child/

http://www.knoxnews.com/

Tuesday's Trust - Loss

Tuesday's Trust

Loss

Love

is so rare, any such handful of ash

holds the whole world's weight.

~Mary Karr

******

The following poem, written by Mary Karr, with change of adjectives and gender could describe my own experience...

ENTERING THE KINGDOM

~Mary Karr

As the boy's bones lengthened,

and his head and heart enlarged,

his mother one day failed

to see herself in him.

He was a man then, radiating

the innate loneliness of men.

His expression was ever after

beyond her. When near sleep

his features eased towards childhood,

it was brief.

She could only squeeze

his broad shoulder. What could

she teach him

of loss, who now inflicted it

by entering the kingdom

of his own will?

******

...When is it late enough to write about our loss, in a way that can be redemptive? Perhaps, like Milosz...

Late Ripeness

Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year

I felt a door opening in me and I entered

the clarity of early morning.

One after another my former lives were departing

like ships together with their sorrow.

And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas

assigned to my brush came closer,

ready now to be described better than before.

I was not separated from people, grief and pity joined us.

We forget—I kept saying—that we are all children of

the King...

~Czeslaw Milosz

Quote, Mary Karr, from poem, "A Tapestry Figure Escapes for Occupancy in the Real World, Which Includes the Death of Her Mother," Mary Karr, Sinners Welcome, p. 43

Poem, "Entering the Kingdom," Mary Karr, Sinners Welcome, p. 32

Poem, a portion of the poem, "Late Ripeness," by Czeslaw Milosz, as quoted by Mary Karr in Sinners Welcome, p. 93

From gate to Gate

From gate to Gate




Of Mommy and Child, oh the times divine,
Short though they were, they were God’s sweet lifeline,
Held tightly at times with this heart of mine,
To cherish each moment, sweet times benign . . .



When you left, I had to plant my garden lush,
With flowers that would stand in a straight line—
Otherwise, my worried mind would not hush . . .
The flowers . . . would obey . . . their bound’ry line.




The days drug on that you were not yet home;
51 days on the streets you would roam,
And then you called—you wanted to come home;
I rushed to get you, praying for shalom . . .



Before you left that day, we’d asked you t’ stay—
I took what was t’ be my last look at you;
We hugged so tight, and yet … you pulled away;
You were nineteen; what else could Mommy do …?




You ran down the steps and out of our gate,

And I

won’t get to see you

till




Heav’n’s Gate . . .

Painting: The Garden at Pontoise by Camille Pissarro, 1877

Poetry prompts line, look, lush from
http://simplysnickers.blogspot.com/2009/07/poetry-prompt-through-sunday-july-12.html


Written 7/5/09 – From gate to Gate – Angie Bennett Prince

Her Father's Love

Her Father's Love

You had the pow’r to save my baby girl . . .

When she was sad, You came to comfort her,

When she was harmed, Your protection would unfurl,

When she was lonely, You came t’ visit her.

When she sinned, Your own Lamb came t’ take her sin,

When she would cry, You wiped her tears away;

When she was estranged, You came, took her in,

When she was taunted, You kept th’ Fiend at bay.

When she was vulnerable, You gave strength,

When she faltered, You’d go to any length,

Ev’n parted the heav’ns to come, rescue her,

Sought th’ cherubims, on their wings You mounted . . .

You battled when foes were too strong for her,

In waters too high, You took hold of her.

When she could not hear, Your voice resounded.

But when You spoke, and she refused, You warned,

But when she still turned You away, You mourned . . .

And when she ran from You, asserting her will,

You let her go, but You loved her still . . .

When the Enemy pounced, her body killed,

You took her to Heaven, Your Love revealed.

But long before the bells for her life pealed,

Her Father’s Love made sure her soul was sealed.

Based on Psalm 18

Picture: Angel_of_the_Aurora_2A.jpg on http://www.skychasers.net/sue.htm

Written 6/16/09 – Her Father’s Love – Angie Bennett Prince