Saturday, December 23, 2006

My Nana Blanket

I just found this poem I had written in 1991:



MY NANA BLANKET

My Nana blanket, it keeps the warmth in site
It falls off my bed just about every nite

Nana knitted it for many days
And I've used it in several ways

The odd colors are brown, green and gold
In my possesion it's 8 years old

Though a graduation gift years after it was made
Mom kept it so the memories wouldn't fade

Done with time, patience and care
Unable to say thanks, it isn't fair

Unique to me, but I'm not the only one
Where Nana-blankets have gone from daughter to son

And when Mom said, "she made this one for you"
Cherish my Nana blanket I must do

- Richard Wesley Martin Warren
5/91

This photo is from Christmas 1991 during our annual Christmas Eve "play." Where I read the poem. I was 25 years old:

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

"Sibling Poem" by Susy

PROLOGUE TO SIBLING POEM

Today my daughter, soon to give birth to her first was wondering aloud the pros and cons of having more than one child.

Tonight my brother sent me a heartbreaking poem about a deceased one’s first Christmas in heaven. Reading it tears rolled down my eyes and I moaned in sorrow because our mother died a few months ago and we will soon have our first Christmas without her.

My daughter said she didn’t want to referee fighting siblings. But I told her when they grow up, “they’ll have each other”. Our parents told us that too. When you are a kid caught up in a kid world of competition and fighting and scrambling for space and attention, you don’t care. You can’t imagine there will come a day, when you grow up and really need each other, a day when you are glad you “have each other”.

That day has come and it is here now. Although I have long ago become an adult who appreciates her siblings, it is only now that their existence has become crucial to me. Without them I’m not sure I could cope with this overwhelming sorrow of the death of our mother.


SIBLING POEM

It is their sameness that saves me now:
We had the same parents
Grew up in the same house
Sat at the same table for dinner
Went to the same church and school wearing the same hand me down uniforms.

I looked at your face at the funeral and you were broken in pain.
I look at you strangely, how can you be this hurt?
You must have loved her, I know she loved you.
I want to comfort you, and doing so helps me.
Then it is my turn to cry, and you hold me too.

You have the same nose, or mouth, or eyes, or bodytype
Or hair, or skintone or teeth—like his or hers or some combination.
There are many combinations and similarities when there are 12 of us.
12 broken hearts can fill a river with tears.

I walk to the river alone to cry my sorrow
Then I see you on the other shore.
I know your face,
You are the same as me,
Broken in the same place in your heart,
The place reserved permanently for mother love,
Where the one who carried you into life
Has left this life and left you here without her.

If not for the mirror we become for each other
I think I could break
For you are her son
You are her daughter
Your heart is broken like mine
And it is only in turning my head to watch your tear-streaked face
That I can stand still in the eye of this storm.

Because you exactly know my sorrow,
I am not alone on this tenuous land between life and death.
You hold me more to life.
Your sameness in sorrow over our mother
Gives sensation to my numb feet.
Now I feel the ground under me
Dirt: soft and warm then hard and cool.
I bend my knees and let gravity pull my weight down
Where I feel more this earth supporting me.
And then I can breathe more easily again.
You, my sorrowful sibling, are the new ground beneath my feet.

VSS
12-11-2006

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

My First Christmas in Heaven

I see the countless Christmas Trees, around the world below
With tiny lights like heaven’s stars, reflecting on the snow.
The sight is so spectacular; please wipe away your tears.
For I am sharing Christmas, with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs, that people hold so dear,
But the sounds of music can’t compare, with the Christmas choir here.
I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring.
It’s far beyond description, to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me. I see the pain within your heart.
But I am not so far away, we really aren’t apart.
So be happy for me, loved ones. You know I hold you dear.
And be glad I’m spending Christmas, with Jesus Christ this year.

I send you each a special gift, from the heavenly home above.
I send you each a memory, of my undying love.
After all “Love” is the gift, more precious than pure gold.
It was always most important, in the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other, as my Father said to do,
For I can’t count the blessings, or the love He has for you.
So, have a Merry Christmas, and wipe away those tears,
For I am sharing Christmas, with Jesus Christ this year.