How long should we grieve over the death of a loved one? I suppose there is no standard answer. It is not easy to recover from a loss as irreparable as death. Some go through a grieving period of more or less one year, others go through a protracted one, while some never recover at all.
If the loved ones could speak from the grave, I am sure they would tell the living they want the grieving period cut short. I am sure they would do everything to take us out of the state of suspended animation and help us bounce back to life.
I am posting what I imagine to be a voice from the grave to a loved one. I wrote it for my friend Harry Basingat (moderator/owner of Bibaknets), whose wife succumbed to stroke last year. Harry is going through the difficult process of recovery. He is actually making effort to circulate in the Land of the Living, but always with reservation. Yesterday, he expressed his interest in ballroom dancing (Translation: He is realizing that he was not buried with his wife.) but I could sense that he was holding back. The culprit could be guilt because his wife died while he was here in the Philippines and she was alone in their US home. What makes this story more poignant is she was getting ready to join him here. She never made it. Perhaps, Harry thinks that sinking in sorrow is a tribute to his beloved wife and soaring from it is betrayal. We who are not in fact in his shoes at the moment can readily say he is wrong. However, the matter is not one easily settled by logic or reason, it is one addressed to the emotion. I think my friend has this emotional baggage that he needs to shake off to facilitate his reintegration into - let me say it again- the Land of the Living.
I wish I were a psychologist or a psychiatrist so I could figure out the situation. Perhaps, I would be in authority to tell Harry that he has grieved long enough and he should not be stabbed by compunction when he yearns to be a regular guy (Translation: what he was before his beloved wife's death). Like all his friends, I want to pull him -body, mind, and spirit- out of the shell he withdrew into after the tragedy. Not being a psychiatrist nor a psychologist, I could only write a poem. I hope reading it will help Mng Harry make a complete exodus from the different world he inhabited for more than a year.
Call for the Next Dance
(for Harry B.)
How we used to dance together.
The dinner table would be set
With its lyrical sparkle of low light,
the candle would bid us:
Dance!
With mine, your body would move
in all directions,
weaving a poetry of motion
creating – unconsciously-
beautiful memories
that we would summon
with a smile,
not sorrow
when we could not dance
together anymore
Ah, how we loved to dance
In the morning
At noon
In the evening
How we loved to dance
When eternity was ours
in our moments of solitude together
or with a coterie of friends
or even total strangers,
we would dance
You would dance with a swarm of
lithe bodies or stiff ones
As long as I was there
I would watch as your feet pirouetted
as if controlled by some spirit of their own
You loved to dance
And before the next ball
I was snatched as I was about to hurl myself
to your waiting arms
after we were apart for a few days
the few that seemed frustratingly infinite
But the train came too fast, stopped long
(or short) enough to load me and absconded
before I could beg for a chance to say
to you
Goodbye
in the fashion we were accustomed
I wish we could have gone to the
Last Dance
which you skipped
because I could no longer go with you
Even if
You loved to dance
Lately, I would silently feel you
intuitively hankering for a dance
But you would not move your feet
Because I could not mine
Even if
You loved to dance
Because you must,
I let you grieve
I let you stop dancing
Even if
You loved to dance
The datebook of the past year is no longer there
in its place one desperate to remind you
time has moved forward with slow precision
Or have you not noticed?
The interregnum has been long
Even the Great Source of Wisdom says
There is a time for everything
A time to cry, a time to laugh
A time to hurt, a time to heal
Too, there must be, for you,
A time to forget, a time to remember
A time to bury a loved one,
A time to exhume the stirring memories
that say life does not end with one death,
Like how
You loved to dance
There is a ball
Why does the spirit in your feet slumber
Still?
You do not want to go
because I will not be there,
You think?
Even if
You loved to dance
Go to the bedroom
(Which is no longer ours but yours; let the
last of me vacate it so you can be whole)
Open the wardrobe
Retrieve your dancing pants
and your dancing shoes
Heed the call of the dance floor
It missed you for too long
This last time
I will be there
Before the clock strikes at midnight
Let me go
Because really
I have gone a long time
as your dance partner
Before I go, brace your ears
Let me stay
long enough to whisper to you
Dance again.
Cheryl Daytec, 10 July 2007
7 comments:
I've heard of Harry's misfortunes a few days after his wife succumb suddenly. Very sad indeed.
People grieve differently. I faced adversity one after the other
when my dad died, mother followed,then my older brod, all in 2 1/2 years time. Four years of intermission while still grieving, more horrifying events struck once more. This time my wife's sis, my daughter's son (five months stillborn), wife's mom, then wife's aunt (mom's sis), I said horrifying coz all these happened within five months time. I grieve for all of them EVEN NOW. It's the untimely death of my first grandson that I couldn't bear. In my solitude, despite my sorrows, I never asked "why my grandson?" It's an unfair question. Everyday, I think of all them most especially my Little Anthony (name chosen by my daughter). So in essence, I do grieve everyday. Yet I've seen some who does the opposite, don't even remember who they lost yesterday! Goodhealth.....
Trublue, my condolences.
The death of a loved one is to me the most painful human experience. When it befalls others, we can only murmur our condolences but we know that a thousand murmurs are not even an effective balm to take away the pain.
I had the poem published in Bibaknets, with Mng Harry's permission. Reading it was cathartic for some. Many were moved to tears as they were forced to relive similar experiences. I experienced a little regret publishing it.
I just wrote a poem based on what you related. I will publish it if I have your OK, Trublue.
Pleasure is mine. It would mean so much for us especially my wife and daughter.
Hi Chytt and all,
Sudden Death or lost of a special person. How could we cope with it?
When my little brother died, I was still innocent. I don't know if I cried or felt sad that time. I was 4-1/2 years old that time and the only memory that I have had was: Me carried by my parents and was told to bid goodbye to my little brother who was sleeping in his "Villa".
Once in a while in my dreams, I imagine ( How could my little brother be if he is still alive). Sometimes I make stories in my mind of him having a good life.
I was 14 1/2 when my father had a fatal accident. I also cried but tried to think that life will go on.
During his wake and funeral.. I was strong and positive thinking. Life goes on without him. But now that I get older, I realized that between now and his last lunch before he met that fatal accident... There is something missing in my life...
A father.
Chytt.. As I'm writing this mail.. tears are falling..I really did not have much time with my father. I think the time when he left.. was the time I needed him most.
The memories, that was left to me, I was 9 or 10, when he was proud presenting me to his I-fontoc folks, when we went together to Bontoc to visit his mom.Another time, when he was a proud father batchering and preparing a pig for my blow out during my elem- graduation ( I was the validectorian that time ). There was also a time when, we are talking together at the veranda of the bank house in Lepanto...He tried to sing a cowboy song, and relate some stories of his life. He also mentioned once, that he dreamed to fulfill my dreams... to send me to some persons he knew in Manila, when I go to college.
Yes ! he was an ordinary laborer and unfortunately had the bad vice of drinking, but he was my father..Too sad, really that he did not lived.. to see me graduating high school and then college, and also that I made it until Europe.
He went to school just to learn to write his name. I think he visited only 3 years or less of schooling.
Just sharing and greetings
Fred
I am reproducing here the comments in Bibaknet(Bibaknets@yahoogroups.com) on the poem for Mng Harry:
From Henry Moguet, USA:
Chyt,
Wow! i must say you are truly gifted. I don't know about my co-lefty Harry but i was teary eyed reading your poem. I went thru the same experience many moons ago and believe it or not...as i was reading the poem, i forgot that the poem was meant for Harry and not for me.
That's how good it was. Let's all dance...life is a dance.
From Philian Louise Weygan, Philippines:
This one and the song (Dance With My Father) sent in by P8 are real soul rending. Whew, Chyt what a way to say it. Yes, people need the encouragement in time of need.
Move on because by the experience we become stronger and better.
Have to stop before I become more emotional.
From Norma Panglao Chaudhari, USA
That is indeed a beautiful poem from Chyt.
Regards
From Daisy Leones, USA
Chyt,
What a wonderful poem!
As I was reading the poem, I can't help but really broke down right infront of my PC, as it opened old wounds again. Today is our wedding anniversary... would have been our 35th anniversary if he's still around dancing with me to the tune of "Happy Anniversary".
Grieving is a continuous process....no one can truly say when the grieving starts or when it ends.
Daisy
Here are some more from Bibaknets.
From Dan Peckley, from Greece, Japan, Philippines, China (a true citizen of the world):
Mng Chyt, keep touching hearts. wanted to use the word "penetrating", too, ngem kanan Mng Harry ay we should be careful of the word he he he....
From Melchora Chin, Australia:
Your posting which was purposely intended for Harry but also shared to others (us) is for me, a message, especially your written poem, that helped strengthened my psychological emotional situation at the moment being succombed by the memories of my departed mother who just passed away last March 21. This occured last Sunday, but thanks to my two boys who are doing their best in helping me deal with this depression. I'm still in my healing process.
My heart goes to Harry who still griefs for his loss. And to Manang Caridad who at the moment is also grieving for the loss of her son-in-law. They say that time will help us heal from our grief which I believe, so we can all move on with our lives.
Once again, thank you Chyt for sharing your message and your poem which is very uplifting. You're really a "dear" person. I can't dance, but surely, I'll start teaching singing again for that is something I had considered a thing in the past after my mother passed away. (Mom was inspirational in my music career).
God bless and regards.
From Harry Basingat (The Man, The Legend himself), USA:
That is so beautiful. Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart. I would certainly love for you to share the same to bibaknets or anyone. It would be more meaningful if you do it yourself. Your blog site would also be a perfect place for such a composition.
I was teary-eyed as I was reading your email and all through the end of your poem. You just don't know how much things like this are helping me emotionally. It seems it's taking so slow but my children and I are moving on with our lives quite well. Thanks to people like you. Eventually, we'll all have weathered the storm.
I'll share your email and poem to my children.
Love you babe.
x----------x
There were other comments but I need to sort my mail first. :-)
Post a Comment