Woodspriestess: Grandmother

She trails pink fingers across the sky 20130407-151104.jpg
scoops up her stories
and offers them with smiles

She plans lunch and words
and a graceful exit
She has been an example
of living
the stardust of generations
has been knitted by her cells

She who has traveled far
She who has loved in her own way
She who has left her mark
on people, places, and things

She holds herself close now
feeling small and tired

Life’s sunset.

Quilted in bright colors
Sinking over hills of gold
and long dry valleys.

(3/31/13)

Several days ago I went to the woods at sunset, finally observing this time of day from my woodspace. As I began to speak into my little recorder, I was talking about the sunset, but somehow, it turned into a poem about my grandmother. As I’ve alluded to before, my grandmother is very sick. It has struck the family as a sudden surprise. To me, she has always seemed invincible. Small and mighty. Strong and determined. I’ve always been proud of her. If there is anything I learned from her, it is to do stuff. Don’t wait or wonder or wish, try it out anyway. She is a world traveler, my grandma. Traveling to new destinations including shortly after her recent diagnosis. When ziplining in Peru a few years ago, her children questioned her:

“I thought you weren’t supposed to do something like that with a medical condition?”

“What?” she replied, “I don’t have a medical condition.”

“What about your pacemaker?” they said

“Oh that, that’s no big deal. I just didn’t mention it to them.”

My mom is sad and consumed with this impending loss. I am peppered with distraction and overwhelmed with the swirl of life, home, work, and children, but beneath the surface of every day, I hear the ticking clock and I sense the poignancy of time. Life decisions seem more potent and urgent now. Approaching endings always seem to bring new perspective. My husband wants to quit his job after spending eight years doing the same thing and becoming less and less enriched by the experience. We have fears about leaping into something unknown, but we also know that it is more scary not to try…

April 2013 029

Categories: family, nature, poems, theapoetics, woodspriestess | 4 Comments

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4 thoughts on “Woodspriestess: Grandmother

  1. notice your own tiredness and your mother’s, mirroring and pacing your grandmother’s…slow the pace, listen to the heartbeat of this amazing womb-world, this dying time that your lineage is living in…precious time

  2. We are going though some of the same stuff — Lots of job changes… So know someone understands. I lost my Grandmother when she was 94, and learned alot about life from her… It is good to give that respect and honor their lives and appreciate them.

  3. Pingback: Day 21: Old Woman (#30daysofHecate) | WoodsPriestess

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