They Carried Your Stories Away

They carried your stories
away today
damaged and broken:
the violin that played the music,
of your childhood
the books that rested in your hands,
the Old Maid we slid around the table,
the piece we made 
standing side by side in your workshop
as I listened to your words
weave your lessons into my life.

I held each in my hand
as we said goodbye
trying to reach back in time for the story.
Years have passed.
Your voice fading,
the memories now black and white:
your music playing in the back room
as Grandma and I washed dishes,
the day's crossword puzzle 
in your tired hands,
all distant.

They carried your stories
away today:
the books that shaped your life,
the projector that helped me to see
the world through your eyes.
These pieces 
of your history
that have guided my journey.
How will I remember 
without holding them
in my hand?

© Cathy L. Mere, 2016





It's Poetry Friday!  Stop by Random Noodling where Diane Mayr hosts today's parade of wondrous words.











Comments

  1. How will I remember
    without holding them
    in my hand?


    By holding them in your heart and enveloping them with your words, which you've done for us today. Wishing you peace.

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  2. Those objects contain so many memories. Thanks for the poem.

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  3. The memories will remain. The loss will fade, be replaced with a smile, a surety of love and joy.

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  4. I understand about those "things", Cathy, and have kept some, but most as those wrote above, are in my mind. What a gorgeous poem, I guess tribute to a grandparent? I love your artful thread: "They carried your stories/away today. . ." Hugs for your loss.

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  5. Lovely poem full of the pathos we can all understand about life moving on and leaving too much to our memories.

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  6. That is beautiful--really, truly beautiful! It made me think of my grandparents who have passed away.

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  7. It's so hard to let go of the objects that play such a huge part of our lives. But because there's a limit to what our homes will hold, I agree with Diane: they live on in our hearts and our writing. Thank you for sharing your lovely poem, Cathy.

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  8. This makes me think of the quote in a Nanci Atwell book, "No stories but in things." Some big truth here. When we moved my mom into assisted living, I brought home a bunch of her stuff. Then I read that book about getting rid of clutter. But I can't make myself do it, because of all of the stories attached to the things. Even though I know I have the stories in my heart. There is just something about letting go.

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  9. A poem to pull at heartstrings! It reminds me of the day of my mom's auction, and how I "rescued" some stuff from the piles that were about to be sold.

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  10. This hits me hard. My brother and I are clearing out mom's house in order to put it on the market. So much of our childhood is packed up in boxes for sale at an auction...

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  11. What a great poem.. The flooded basement and the loss of "things" is very hard, but your grandpa will always be with you.. Just close your eyes and remember...

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