The Gift of Memory


THE GIFT OF MEMORY
 
 ‘He is looking at me but not seeing me’
She quivered into the phone
As she clutched his hand
 
The rest is icy black water
No whitecaps to crash and plume against the rocks
Whispering stories with their salty spray
 
There are no waves in still water
 
She longs to feel his hand once more
Teaching her the saga of the seventh wave
 
They sat on the sand together
On the North Shore on the island of Oahu
She was captivated by the power of the roiling sea
Crashing onto the sand with thundering sighs
He clasped her hand
 
‘Count the waves’ he said
Gently pressing her hand with each surge
‘One, two, three
Listen to the sound build as the momentum increases
Four, five, six,’ he pressed
The hum became a roar
Spume covered their feet and seeped into their clothes
‘Seven’ he squeezed
 
They fell back onto the sand laughing
As the sea washed over them
 
He taught her much with his gentle hands and loving laughter
 
Tricia 2010

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.

Posted on December 7, 2011, in Poems. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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