Head-on Collision

I enter the giant building
Aseptic walls, sterile scent
White robes, green scrubs
Beeps and hydraulic hisses

I enter your glass-door encasement
On your back, more still than night
Able only to move your eyes
Staring at the white ceiling

Harrowing sight before me
Your body stretched like a hammock
Metal halo encircles your skull
Held tightly with stainless steel screws

Our eyes meet, tears spill over
Trickle of pain flows down your cheeks
62 years now behind you
Uncertain terror of what lie ahead

Never again in this life will you know

Thrill of the hike
Glory of the golf swing
Wind of the ski slope
Frigid chills in your toes
Warm touch to your thigh

To hold a hand
To stroke a cat
To tie a shoe
To lift a child
To button a button
To zip a zipper

Flip the steak
Carve the roast
Pinch Mom on her bottom
Dance a Glen Miller swing
Click the camera

Foreign to the life that awaits you

Only dead weight beneath your shoulders

C-4 sever
One split-second
Cataclysmic aftermath


judithpiper
august 19, 2007
_____

In early July, 1983, Dad was in a head-on automobile collision. Life forever changed.
To read more context, click here: When Limbs Go Quiet

_____

embalm

underneath my skin
just beneath the surface
an unreachable itch
vacillating, floating
trying to push through

to reveal, to disclose
to expose, to liberate

the tiny morsels
suppressed by authority
screaming for release
so as to not be buried

where 1000 splinters
morph into boards
solidified plywood
encasing my heart
as it silently pulses

september 10, 2010
judithpiper

***
Verbal abuse plus the silent treatment.
A soul murdering combination.
But only if I allow it.
***

deja vu

silenced
pen paralyzed
murdered muse

wishing
it were a dream

and I'd awake
tomorrow
to discover it
untrue

Safe Place

Photo ~
dismembered, napalmed leg
Dream ~
dismembered, bloodied appendage

I have been dismembered

To re-member is to bring back together
It's o.k. to remember

I am not in physical danger
I am safe
My physical needs are met

I am not in emotional danger
I can call for support
JK, John, friends

Sometimes I hurt
From what I am not sure
Just deep, deep pain

It's o.k. to cry in this safe place

june 29, 2009
judithpiper

The Final Drum

Mother your life was rich
Your eighty-three years were full
Seldom was there a dull moment
You gave of your life and soul

Through bee stings, braces, cracked bones
We sewed our adolescent wild oats
You believed in us to the end
Until we could thrive on our own

Your commitment to family was strong
Your endurance in care unique
You taught others to see the good
During trial answers to seek

Your loved ones will dearly miss you
Your wit, your heart, your smile
We will recall the good times
And there will be tears for awhile

Your sense of humor sustained you
We reach beyond time to mourn
Our palates await the Great Banquet
To savor your green beans and creamed corn

........................................
We love you Flo Rae
Friend, Aunt, Mom, Grandma
May your rest with Albert
Companion, Uncle, Dad, Grandpa

And together dance
On moonlit shores
Until then....

Your children, your family, your friends


february 2, 2009
~piper

**********************************************

I don't want to think about Mother's Day this year. It's like I have an aversion to it. I cannot specifically identify why, other than the aversion having something to do with the death of my mom a couple months ago.

It's like I have a wall up, blocking something.

Some would perhaps say, "Tear down that wall!" But I'm not sure yet how to approach it or if I want to know why it is there. I just know I want the day to pass quickly, to get it over with.

My mom died at 83 years old on January 31, 2009. She was the last surviving sibling of 12. Her maiden name was Drum. Though she isn't the "final" Drum, she was the final Drum sibling of her family.

The following is an excerpt from Mom's obituary. (Must copy and paste the link for the link to work. Cannot link directly by simply clicking it.)
http://www.legacy.com/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonId=123651927

Flo Rae grew up in the Balls Creek area of Catawba County and was a graduate of Balls Creek High School. Soon after high school, she met and fell in love with a young man from Hickory, Albert W. Hamby. They were married in August 1942.

Albert's military assignments sent the couple to New York City and Miami, Fla. In 1946, Flo Rae and Albert settled in Daytona Beach, Fla., where their three children were born. The family moved to Hickory in 1961. Flo Rae and Albert joined the Adult Fellowship Class at First United Methodist Church and became lifelong friends with many fellow members. The love and support provided throughout the years by their church family was a continued blessing to Flo Rae. For the next several decades, Flo Rae was a national top-producing salesperson for Encyclopedia Britannica. Her engaging personality drew people to her and made her a trusted and very successful salesperson.

Her strong work ethic and passion for living life brought her through many challenges, the most difficult was Albert's automobile accident and subsequent disability in 1983. Flo Rae insisted on caring for her husband, a quadriplegic, at their home for the rest of his life. She and Albert were supported by a caring family and dear friends in Hickory during these years, but Flo Rae was always guiding the ship. She provided a quality of life for Albert that was truly amazing, including vacations and camping. Albert Hamby died in 1996.


I had a mix of emotions when Mom died; I still do.

I wrote the above poem in the wee morning hours. She really did make delicious green beans and creamed corn.