Aspects of Life
She couldn’t remember her final bath
The subconscious realisation
Getting in and getting out
Were becoming beyond her
She remembered her joy in bathing
Lolling in the warm womb
Listening to Vivaldi or Chopin
Sipping brandy and dry
As the aches of the day
Began to recede
Often he would join her
Whiskey and soda in hand
Sit on the grey tiled space
At the end of the bath
Rest his back
On the sturdy glass wall
Eyes closed
Occasionally stroking her hair
There was an intimacy
More satisfying than sex
In this silent sharing of their day
The baths ended
Long before his heart stopped beating
But their loving intimate silences
Continued
Tricia 9/2012
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About triciabertram
I have written all my life. Writing helps me to make sense of a world I often don’t understand. Poetry is my supreme solace, closely followed by literature and music.
When my son ended his life in 1999 I embarked on the most difficult journey of my life, my grief journey. To survive in this unknown, harsh landscape I had to write. It was for me, the only way I could even begin to move forward. Then in 2009 my darling husband died suddenly and so my journey continues. I write about other issues but because of my life experience, grief and death are continuing themes in my writing life. In our culture I believe there is a fear of death, an inability to accept the inevitability of our mortality, and this creates enormous difficulties for the bereaved and those around them.
I have begun this blog in the hope I will create a small ripple in the pond of fear that is currently drowning the reality of death and grief. I will continue to skim the stones of my truth, watch them bounce, and see how many ripples I can make.
Tricia,
This is beautiful and beautifully written, so very moving too.
Wonderful memories to have. Andthere are so many intimacies that are better than sex; yes it has its place but I think most of my most memorable intimate moments didn’t involve sex at all.
And it is a little sad too.
With much love
Your good friend Christine xx
Christine for me intimacy is the thing I miss most. I’m so grateful for all my memories.
This poem began life as hissy fit about no longer being able to have a bath. The hissyness lasted only a moment. I love where the openness of freefall writing takes me.
Take care of yourself my friend
Love
Tricia
Wonderful! Amazing as always!
Thanks so much Joe.
What a warm and intimate poem, Tricia. Such an ordinary event. A lingering bath at the end of a long day. But you’ve shared a peek at a loving and anything but ordinary close of day. I really loved this. oxo Debra
Debra I’m so pleased you like this one. As I wrote to Christine I began mid hissy fit but within a moment I found myself writing, what for me is, a love poem.
Hugs
Tricia
A beautiful poem Tricia.
These are the memories which keep us warm
Look after yourself
David
David how wonderful to hear from you.
And yes memories are warm, wonderful things.
Thanks for your warm words
Tricia xo