ME TOO! by Liz Manning

My lovely mother in law died recently. In response to that, and short of the usual family coming together in the current circumstances, I wrote a poem called Lockdown Funeral Blues.

In times of acute pain, writing poetry becomes my ‘go to’. A month after my mum died, I wrote this:

THE DAY BEFORE MOTHERS’ DAY

Today was hard.

Eyes assaulted by bouquet displays,

Banner announcements, chocolates, cakes,

And menu ideas.

Who knew

Walking into a supermarket

Would be like

Walking into an ambush

Of everyone else’s impending celebration?

Momentarily I clutched the wall,

As if punched in the sternum,

Chest tight, fighting for breath,

The claustrophobic cacophony

Obliterating my ability

To choose a curry for tonight’s dinner.

I turned and forced myself

To concentrate on an Easter display instead

But the unsaid noise was deafening.

I had to escape

From all this anticipation and appreciation,

My own love overspilling

With no one to receive it,

Directionless,

Wasted.

When we made the dreaded decision to move my dad into a care home because he was no longer safe in his own flat, my anger at his condition produced this (with apologies for the language):

THIEF

You thief

You carpet puller

You destroyer of decision making

You muscle mugger

You time twisting swindler

You independence robber

You memory hijacker

You hunger punk

You home burglar

You safety pilferer

You peace plunderer

You stealer of my father

You b*****d dementia

You b*****d.

I wonder if you also find it easier or helpful to write when in pain? Or perhaps when in any high emotion? This resulted from my son’s graduation:

GRADUATION