Poems dedicated to deceased loved ones

these are poems about loved ones I have lost

Crying at the Table

we receive a call

my mother's face drops

I ran to her side

tears roll down her cheeks

she sets down the phone

sister runs in

she hugs us

she tells us of our loss

rushing around, packing

grandma arrives, they leave together

sitting at the table alone

tears rolling down my cheeks

I wish mother could be here for me

That poem was for my second cousin Scott who died of a fentanyl overdose a few years ago. May he rest in peace.

This next poem is not about a loss I remember but one that I heard about and has really stuck with me.

I want to know you

sitting down on the couch

tv on pause

mum sits down

she tells us the story

of my great uncle on my father's side

William Giles

she says was his name

disowned, alone

his identity too much for the family to bear

his disease kept a secret

I want to unpuzzle him

I want to know him

this story was about my grandfather's brother. :(

the story of my great-grandfather (my grandmother's father) who died in a car accident

April 30th 1958

Lee Maxwell Wilhite

my great-grandfather died

on the San Bernardino freeway

he was 52

he left behind a wife and 5 kids

his death along with 2 other women who were in the car

was caused by a drunk driver

who drove over the center divide

causing a head-on collision

no one was wearing a seatbelt

it was not a law yet

his wife

was also in the car

she was 4'11"

she survived only because she was small enough to slide under the dashboard

still she broke so many bones they assumed she wouldn't survive

so none of her bones were set

when she was still alive in the morning

they finally set her bones

the story goes that

when she was born

her father's ring went all the way up to her shoulder

she was that premature

they assumed she wouldn't survive so they didn't feed her

when she woke up in the morning

they fed her

17 year old triplets

and 11 year old twins

my grandma was one of those twins

they were rich

my great-grandfather was a business man

along with his inventor best friend

they made money inventing and selling

agricultural irrigation systems they invented

This one was before I was born and it defines my story. . .

the picture sitting in a drawer

standing by the bed

mother tells the story

of her daughter or her son

my sibling

my friend

all alone

lost

I wish she was there for me

I wish I was there for her

That poem is about the miscarriage that happened a couple of years before my birth, probably about 8-10 years ago. We named the child Shalom, which means peace in Hebrew. I hope they are at peace and resting out there somewhere.