32 Comments

So beautiful, dear Tara. It's a gift to hear your reading of it.

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Thanks, Margaret. And thank you for being such a good friend. 🤗💕

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😊

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So poignant, so well written, Tara. I know grief from losing my sister in a car crash when we were teenagers. I know grief where I was so angry at the world as it kept spinning. Thanks for sharing.

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Thank you for being here. I'm so sorry for the loss you experienced. I'm happy this rang true for you, but also sad that it did. Wishing you comfort, as I'm sure such a loss never truly recedes into the past.

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It's a long time ago now, we speak of her often and she remains a big influence in our lives. These things shape us. I guess it gives me a lens of understanding to others with heavy grief, and if I can help others with that I try.

I know I'm speaking of tragic sudden death here but I heard someone speak so gracefully on a podcast yesterday, on her writing and on grief, after losing her husband and the father of her young children, it really moved me. It's the acceptance after... This line she said stood out:

'What happened, happened.

It couldn't happen any other way, because it didn't'

Sincere condolences on your mother's passing.

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Oh Tara, so sorry to hear about your mom passing. Your poem sums up beautifully how much everything has changed, and yet nothing has changed, and your struggle as you sit between the two. Much love to you

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Thank you, Lisa, for reading and commenting. So glad this felt true to you. Thanks for being here.

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This is truly poignant and so so so beautiful. I was with my nana when she passed and I can relate to what you say so perfectly. I’m sending you all my love. Take care ❤️🙏

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Francesca, thanks so much for reading and taking the time to reach out with a comment. So happy this piece felt true to you.

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Tara, it is such a pleasure to become acquainted with your writing but particularly this poem. It was on this day last year that I was sat in a funeral home with my Mum & brother, picking out a coffin for my Dad who had died very unexpectedly. We didn't get a lot of time to say goodbye (he was diagnosed with cancer & died 48 hours later) but I'll never forget what it was like being in his hospital room, the cafeteria downstairs, each of the nurses that cared for him, all that was said between us &, yes, the way the outside world continued on.

I recently wrote a piece about Dad's death & grief, ten months on: https://karlamariesweet.substack.com/p/monday-musings-the-dead-dads-club

The final third of it is a list of all the things that helped me deal with it all. I hope you might find something in it, as I did with your poem.🤍 x

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I'm so sorry you lost your Dad, and that it happened so very quickly. My own father died almost forty years ago and while it was several weeks between diagnosis and death, not a couple of days, it still felt much too fast to process. It was the opposite with my mom. In hindsight I can see that her journey with dementia started nearly a decade ago, but the last five years were one long, slow slide with occasional precipitous drops. I feel I lost a little bit of her every day, until she was this fragile shell of herself. Not knowing what she knew or understood of her condition was so hard. Having a foot in both camps tells me there is no good way to lose a parent. But writing about it, sharing our stories and the strategies that helped us cope is one of the ways to mend those tears created by the loss of a loved one. Thank you for reading and for sharing your own story. So glad to meet you here!

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This poem feels so true, Tara. It's been almost two decades since my dad passed, and it still, sometimes, feels like this. Thank you for sharing and it was so nice and so touching to hear you read the poem yourself. Sending virtual hugs. 💕

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I'll take those hugs, and send back more. So sorry you lost your Dad so young. 💕🤗

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Thanks, Tara. 💕🤗

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What a beautiful and truly felt poem. It’s been nearly 15 years since I lost my mom but the day came rushing back when I read/heard your words. I think of her daily. Thank you for putting words to my heart’s truth.

Hugs to you. ❤️ May your mother’s memory be a blessing.

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Thanks, Sarah. It means a lot to hear that you connected with this piece. Thanks for letting me know. 💕

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This was so beautiful, Tara. And the addition of your voice to it--I'm speechless. Sending you love--and hugs and friendship--if any of that is needed as I know the voiceovers add an additional layer of vulnerability and feelings on top of the already vulnerable action of putting your words out there. Thank you for letting us witness you and your mom in this beautiful, touching way.

The bit about the grocery store... oh my goodness, just, yes.

My dad and I had a complicated relationship (at best) but after his death, it felt so odd to do human tasks. Going to the grocery store and being greeted with the American ‘hi, how are you?’ over and over again made me feel so disconnected from the people around me. Was I supposed to say “good”? Was I supposed to say “idk grappling with the loss of my biggest abuser while also mourning the relationship we could have had as adults if Alzheimer’s hadn’t taken him far too early”? A mix of the two? None of it felt right so I kept defaulting to "been better" with a shrug, but even that felt wrong and socially unacceptable.

Thank you for sharing this ❤️

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I think there's an extra layer of complication that comes when you experience the loss of someone with whom you had a complicated or "bad" relationship. Grief is never easy, but I have found myself envying a friend who lost her mom, also to dementia, but whose relationship seems to have been somehow simpler and more overtly loving than the one I had with my mom. Of course, that may simply be the way she has chosen to curate that relationship in the wake of her mother's death. And that's not a criticism. I find myself thinking that maybe a very important task in grief is that curation, that choosing of what to hang onto and what to let go. Your support and reflections mean so much to me. Thank you for being here.

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Wow so beautiful 💛

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Thank you, Kym, for reading and for taking the time to reach out. Very much appreciated.

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💛 Tara 💛 I'm so sorry about your mom.

Sometimes I think the Victorians had it right about visibly marking a time of mourning. I wouldn't wish you done up in a black bombazine gown for a year, but how about a badge that people could wear, for other people to see and remember, "Right, she's living on a different timeline right now, she can't be altogether Here."

Thank you for writing about this life-changing loss and grief, and sharing what you write when it (and you) are ready. Please do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself. I bet your mom would tell you the same.

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Yes! A visible cue for people would be so useful. Part of the strangeness of those first days and weeks was that sense of being in disguise as I moved through the world. Like, "Here I am, just a normal person in line at the post office." I felt like I should have a sign, letting people know because it almost felt duplicitous not to announce it. Thanks, as ever, for being her and always having something lovely to say. 💕🤗

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Tara, this captures exactly how it felt after my dad died and for a few months after. I was slower than the rest of the world and it took awhile to catch up. Those moments are so precious. I wrote a series of poems after my dad died and I really treasure them as they hold those months still for me.

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Thank you, LeeAnn. One of the lovely things has been when people share their own experiences with me in this time. It helps so much to know that what you're feeling is within the realm of normal, and that one day you'll regain your footing in that other world.

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This is beautiful, Tara, and so was your mother, and so was and is your love for her.

You capture so well the feeling I first had at the age of ten, when my grandmother died and I wanted the world to stop. But it doesn't.

Years later, I had the same feeling, but at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, after spending hours in a room where someone had just been born.

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It's so interesting that you make the connection between death and birth, because I was struck by exactly the same thing. I couldn't help thinking about giving birth as I was sitting there with my mom. There's the same sense of waiting for something to happen, of biding time. There are people coming and going quietly, doing all they can to make someone more comfortable. It is such an elemental moment - ushering someone into or out of life. I felt so supported by the facility staff and hospice, just as my husband and I felt supported by midwives and nurses when our children were born. I was offered food and drink, a more comfortable chair, so many hugs, and offers to sit with her while I took a break, took a walk, made a phone call, much the way my husband was during my very long first labor. It really is the clearest window through which to view people at their very best, and it restored some of my faith in humanity.

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Yes, and once you have seen someone be born, you know something indelible about that person. Once you have seen someone die, you know something indelible about yourself.

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Ah, Tara. That is stunning and has rooted me deeply in your moment. And you tell it so well, in fact after reading the intro I felt I needed to hear you say it before I went to read it. A subject so close and important. You told it so well.

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Thank you, David. That means a lot. I really appreciate you taking the time to listen.

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I love everything about this post and this poem. And I love the way describe the ways people might be able to take it in:

“Or maybe it will give you a bit of knowledge to tuck away, a pin dropped in a map to help you find your way.”

Tara you manage to describe the indescribable and thank you for going there. I hope your poem helps you as much as others as you move through this strange space.

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Thank you, Edie. Thank you for being here and taking the time to leave a comment. I'm so happy this rang true for you.

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