writing

Open Mic; Open Heart

~ rdicarne ~ 13 Comments

Last Friday night, I did a thing. I read three of my latest poems at an open mic night at the Horsham Township Library, where I belong to a Poetry Writing Group. The last time I read was probably a year ago, and about 15 people were listening. This time, about 40 people attended. The large number in attendance was mostly due to a fellow group member debuting his first chapbook of poetry (very exciting).

What made this experience a little nerve-wracking was that I was reading three poems that emerged from my grief processing. Since I was reading to so many people who were not in the group and did not know my story, I had to preface my reading by telling them about Chuck’s death and how long we had been together.

When it was my turn to read, my hands were shaking more than normal. (I have familial tremors that really kick in when my adrenaline is high.) At first, I placed my hands flat on the podium, but that felt very unnatural. I remedied that by clasping my hands behind my back as I read poems two and three.

I managed to make it through my backstory and all three poems without tears, and received very nice feedback from several attendees I had never met before. Below are the three poems I shared, and I would like to share them with you. You may have read the first one in one of my first posts about the loss of Chuck, the love of my life.

Piracy

Cancer came like a marauding pirate
Cunning, ruthless,
Pillaging my lover’s body
Plundering life as I knew it.

No time to climb to the crow’s nest
And plan for the fight
No time to batten down the hatches
We were hit broadside.

Casting me into a sea of devastation,
I am a rudderless vessel,
whirling in an eddy of grief
unable to fathom the loss.

A veil of sadness covers my days
Marooned on an island of despair
My body anchored to the weight of my grief
Dehydrated from the deluge of tears.

Adrift and disoriented
I am lost in the daily struggle
of disbelief and loneliness
Drowning in heartache and pain

Now That You’re Gone

Our keystone has been removed.
Now what?
Who will hold the family together?
Who will hold me together,
Now that you are gone?

Who will –
Sniff the milk and tell me not to drink it,
and leave paper towels scattered around the kitchen for me to put in the trash,
or cook me five-star dinners
Now that you’re gone?

Who will –
I tell to pull up their pants and use a belt,
And watch Phillie’s games with me
Or yell at the TV on football Sundays
Now that you’re gone?

Who will –
Have me watching WWE on Monday nights because I am too lazy to go into another room,
Or start watching a movie with me and then fall asleep
Or steal the covers
Now that you’re gone?

Who will –
Water the plants and prevent me from murdering them
And listen to me vent
Or be my biggest champion
Now that you’re gone?

Who will –
Fill my car with gas
and tires with air
Or my life with purpose
Now that you’re gone?

You Got It

You got it.
You got it.
You got it.

That’s what everyone keeps telling me,
but I don’t got it.
I don’t want it.
I may never have it.

They tell me how well I am doing,
and I deflect with a joke
Too afraid, too vulnerable
To reveal what’s going on.

You got it.
I don’t got it!
You got it.
I don’t want it!

A perfume bottle from 1995
stares at me from the dresser
daring me to cry.

You got it.
I don’t got it!
You got it.
I don’t want it!

What was once easy –
without a second thought
has become complex and tiring
getting locked out
a broken storm door handle
dashboard lights I haven’t seen before
All can invoke tears.

You got it.
I don’t got it!
You got it.
I don’t want it!

People offer advice
for a fresh start I never asked for.
But who are we to decide?
Who are we to choose?

You got it.
I don’t got it!
You got it.
I don’t want it!

But, I’ll try.

I believe I am on an endless journey that will take me to many parts of my heart and memories – familiar and unfamiliar. Grief does not have a destination; it is more like a traveling companion that you have to learn to live with.

This is What Grief Sounds Like

~ rdicarne ~ 9 Comments

Music has always been an integral part of my life, having the power to evoke emotions, make me want to move my body, or conjure moments from the past. While driving back and forth to the hospital during Chuck’s 18-day stay, everything changed. Once I learned the gravity of Chuck’s condition, I could no longer listen to my usual music. Listening to the music of the 70s, 80s, and 90s—which once brought back so many happy memories of our dating days and early married life—now felt too painful, especially as I dealt with the uncertainty of the present. Yet a silent car ride left my mind open to spiralling into the deep, dark thoughts.

After Chuck passed, everything was heartbreaking, but especially listening to music. Classical and jazz instrumental music filled some of the musical void, but I needed more. I am not sure how it happened exactly, but I began a “grief” playlist on my music streaming service, and oddly enough, it was very comforting. Listening to these songs made me feel less alone – like someone else knew what I was going through – how much my heart was hurting.

The first song on my list is “I’m Not Okay” by Jellyroll. I remembered seeing him perform this song on a Grand Ole Opry special with a group of local Nashville students. Some songs came to mind organically, while others were researched online. You’d be surprised how many you find when you Google “songs about grief.”

Then I remembered one of my former students had messaged me shortly after Chuck’s death, sending me “Bigger Than the Whole Sky” by Taylor Swift because it had helped her through some difficult times, so that went on the list, too. Right now, my list stands at 53 tunes. It is a mix of musical genres. Some songs I knew, some were new to me. A few of the songs are not really about grief, but brought me solace, so they made the list as well.

These are some of my favorites.

  • “Supermarket Flowers” – Ed Sheeran
  • “I Will Not Say Goodbye” – Danny Gokey
  • “If I Would Have Known” – Kyle Hume
  • “Memories” – Maroon Five
  • “Beat You There” – Will Dempsy
  • “Slipped Away” – Avril Lavigne
  • “Beloved” – Mumford and Son
  • “Dancing in the Sky” – Dani and Lizzy
  • “For Good” – Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel
  • “Never Not Remember You” – Cooper Alan

I listened to this playlist all the time, especially when the thoughts of listening to Christmas music made me sick to my stomach. It’s funny how these songs never made me feel sad, only seen and understood. I am about four months into my grieving journey, and I have just started to be able to listen to some of our old favorite stations. Sometimes a song will make me melancholy, but little by little, I am finding some of them bring a smile to my face, especially when I hear Chuck’s inappropriate lyric changes in my head. (IYKYK)

Everyone’s grief is different. I lost my spouse and best friend, but maybe you are grieving another family member, a friend, a beloved pet, or the loss of a job. Whatever it is, there may be a song for you out there that will bring you some comfort. Why not try crafting your own list?

Finding Purpose

~ rdicarne ~ 5 Comments

Getting older is not for the faint of heart. It brings new aches and pains, medical issues, and many hard decisions. All of that can feel overwhelming at times, but getting older also brings new freedom—well, at least it has for me.

I subscribe to Beth Kempton on Substack (https://bethkempton.substack.com/) and have taken a few of her online workshops. Beth sends out a Soul Circle Journal Note to her subscribers each week. It focuses on one word and how it relates to our writing practice. This week’s word was PURPOSE. Beth’s words have stuck with me since I read them on Monday.

“If we always force ourselves to begin with the purpose of a thing before any words have flowed onto the page, we are in danger of (1) missing out on what it could be because we are too attached to what we think it should be.”

Getting back to aging. Beyond my writing practice, I started thinking back to my purpose/s in life over the years and how much time I wasted on what I thought “should be” instead of focusing on what “could be.” My younger self was constantly worried about being a good enough student, friend, wife, mother, or teacher. How did I measure up to everything and everyone around me?

I have no regrets, but I could have been more open to taking a few risks or trusting myself more. Now that I am in the fourth quarter of this game of life, I realize that I don’t worry much about the “should be” but focus instead on what “could be.” I am coddiwompling (traveling purposefully toward an as-yet-unknown destination) through life and leaving myself open to what “could be.” Never could a younger me be able to let go and wander without a travel plan. That only came with the wisdom of age.

**Coddiwomple is my OLW for 2025.

If My Room Could Talk

~ rdicarne ~ 5 Comments

My current book club selection has got me thinking about perspective. I am currently listening to The Briar Club by Kate Quinn. It is the story of an all-female boarding house in Washington, DC, in 1950. Each chapter focuses on one of the women living in Briarwood House. I am only on Chapter Four, but what I find so interesting is the Interstitial, a chapter between chapters told from the house’s perspective. That got me thinking – what if the walls of my classroom could talk? What have they observed?

Room 208 – Thursday Observations
The same two or three students unstack the chairs each morning, and today was no different. The rest of the class takes it for granted that a chair will be at each desk when they arrive in homeroom.

I love watching the students get excited when they are writing collaboratively. Sometimes, they can get silly, but they are just little kids with bigger bodies. I heard seven stories set in Gooberville!

Morning recess can get messy, especially near where the boys sit. I can’t believe how many of them miss their mouths; popcorn, pretzels, and Doritos fall on the floor. Like clockwork, M. gets the broom and dustpan to clean up after his friends. Snack trading is becoming a daily sport with high-level negotiations—some budding lawyers in this room.

Some students are very confident and raise their hands ALL THE TIME. I get tired of hearing those same voices every day. I wish I could talk to those quieter students who are afraid to answer. I would tell them to take a chance, to go for it. My friend, Room 206, tells me that some quieter ones emerge from their shells in 8th grade. (SMILE)

Do you believe some students still don’t bring all the necessary books or recess snacks to the room? The hall pass complained to me just the other day about how many hands she passes through each day! Then you have the kids who bring everything with them but leave half their belongings in class when they leave. (SHRUG)

I do love these kids like I have loved all those who came here before them. Honestly, though, I love it when the end of the day comes, and I am filled with silence. I get a peaceful night’s rest and am ready to meet them again in the morning.

What other things can I learn from my classroom? Maybe tomorrow I will chat with the pencil sharpener or one of the desks. 😉