(6/25/14) My good friend Gary McCormick writes lovely poems from the heart, and he penned one in particular that speaks to me now that the busyness of visitations, and funerals, and disposing of Mom’s worldly possessions and affairs is past.
He calls it Hardly heard and it goes like this:
Give me a moment of quiet
If you choose to disturb
Let me hear only a whisper
As soft as the hush of hummer wings
Peace hiding in swift motion
A wispy winged whirrrrrr
We were with Gary when he lost his lovely wife Jean a few years back, and we learned from Gary that this business of mourning is no busyness at all. It is a natural process that takes as much time as it takes.
Just time outside of time.
I knew my mother, Hannah Dick Macfarlan McKelvy, for more than 64 years, so I am not going to get over her departure from this life any time soon.
Ain’t gonna happen.
Mom loved the birds, and she always wanted me to fill the feeder outside her window at Woodland Terrace in Bridgman, Michigan so her birds would keep coming to see her.
Now, as my friend Gary McCormick suggests, I am giving myself a moment of quiet in which to hear the hush of Mom’s angel wings as she passes peacefully in swift, wispy, winged motion on her way to feed the birds of paradise.