Sue Baiman's Blog, page 9

National Poetry Month

April is National Poetry Appreciation Month. I’ve struggled lately to get my words. I was already struggling before my mom died suddenly; but losing her like that felt like a sick and strange combination of the bottom dropping out from under me and being choked by my emotions. But I know the only way I can get the words to flow again is to simply write them. I’ve taken long enough. Not long enough to grieve… there is no timetable on that. I know I will miss her every day. But on letting that grief keep me from writing. So, I’m going to do what I’ve done for the past couple years and post at least one piece every day for the month of April. As is my usual custom, these are first drafts; but still, at least one new one each day….

 

Insecurities

In those final moments

Of a long day

That seemed to span

A week or more

Just before I grudgingly

Drift off to sleep

And in the first moments

Of the next

In a string with no beginning

And no end

I think of you

And in that pre-dawn dark

The question comes to mind

As it has so many other times

Were you proud of me?

But I’m a parent too

So I hope I know the answer

That you were proud

Of even the slightest triumph

And that you always cheered

For every success

Yet that answer

Doesn’t give me any peace

Because my triumphs

And successes

Have been few and far between

I have struggled

My entire life

My mistakes

Have been epic

And I know you struggled

To understand me

Did you know

That I had finally

Reached a place

Where I no longer doubted myself?

Did you know

That these words

That tumble out of me

As if they have

Their own agenda

And breath of their own

Have given me a strange sort of peace

As if they pull the pain

Out with them

Onto the paper

Where it lays

Impotent and immobile?

You were always worried

Or so it seemed

That I wouldn’t be able

To take care of myself financially

So everything came down to money

And I’ll admit

To those same fears

But I don’t need much

I don’t need wealth

I’m getting by

What I’ve needed all along

Was to know

That despite my epic failures

And bad decisions

Was that I am loved

Was loved

And as the dawn lifts

And light slowly creeps in

The realization dawns as well

And I know you did

But did understanding come

With that love?

Did you read the words I gave you?

When you held them

Did you feel

The weight of my heart

Did you feel that infant

That you delivered

So long ago

Or the agony

Of my own delivery

So many years later

When my need to create

With these words

Became a physical form?

As much as I would give

And it’s a sum, a price

Mindbendingly staggering

To know that you read my words

And that they touched you

If only in some small way

Or that if you read them

You didn’t immediately

Wonder if I could make a living

With them

But instead were simply moved

It no longer matters

Because I’ll never know

And wondering does nothing

Except make me terribly sad

And crazier than I might

Already be

I know I disappointed you

Too many times to count

And that you never

Understood me

But still you loved me

And now I’ve learned

To love myself

So I guess I couldn’t

Ask for more

So as you go

Please take my insecurities

With you

I don’t want you to have them

But could you just drop them off

At some corner of the universe

On your way

To wherever you’re traveling?

I don’t think I need them anymore.

Afterward

Sitting

Waiting

For an event

That’s nothing more

Than the afterward

Of a long story

Already read

Where the outcome

Was less than satisfying

But the natural conclusion

Of a long and winding tale

Where the heroine

Had finally found her place

In this crazy world

A story where every tragedy

Was met with resilience

A story where minutes

After she experienced

A larger measure

Of happiness and peace

Than she had in years

She died suddenly

A dark twist

That only the most gifted author

Could ever hope

To get away with

An ending guaranteed

To leave the reader

Struggling to finish the last page

So as we wait

To say goodbye

All I can think

Is that this is an afterward

I’d just rather not read

Remembering Mom

She came from nowhere

And grew up with nothing

She was the perfect combination

Of her mother and grandmother

A tough broad from the same

Yet softer, tempered

By the influence of a generation

Once removed

She worked hard

For everything she earned

But she never forgot

Where she came from

Including the lessons

Of how to make due

So she always wanted people to know

How thrifty she was

Her love of bargain hunting

Was comical

She’d come home

With something

No one was ever

And I mean ever

Going to need

And be so proud of herself

Because it was such a bargain

If you complimented her

On a new item of clothing

She would tell you

Where she got it

And at what price

Looking for validation

That used to drive me nuts

Until I got older

And understood

Both her motivation

And need

I told her once

That I knew

What a great shopper she was

But when someone pays her

A compliment

All she needed to say

Was thank you

And I watched her

Absorb that

That we already knew

She was good at something

And her demeanor changed

I know she didn’t always remember

And she slipped back

Into old habits

But I also saw her live it

And simply say thank you

And I saw the gleam

Of pride in her eyes

Truth is

She was good at lots of things

Too many to count

She created amazing things

Elaborate costumes

With painstaking details

That were elegant

And sublime

Yet she saw them

As being frugal

And still needed

That reaffirmation

Of her worth

Her faults were many

Yet somehow

They no longer define her

I will remember

That she was judgmental

And bitchy

Bossy and a huge pain in the ass

But that doesn’t matter now

Because she was also

The one we all turned to

When the chips were down

She tried to control us

Her entire world

Because that’s how she survived

And even thrived

In a world where she was once

The underdog

And never realized

That she had made it

But that need to control

Was what made her a rock

When life got stormy

She was our primary care provider

And our patient care advocate

When an emergency struck

She had whatever it was

That we needed

A car

A house

Information

Advice

Clothing, dishes, blankets

Cash

Or just love

She was practical

And though she could be

Easily distracted

She was also amazingly organized

When disaster struck

When the rest of us

Went numb

Or fell apart

She was the one

Who pulled us together

Who had the facts

And told us things would get better

That it would be okay

If we stayed calm

And stuck together

And believed

And we did

And she was always right

So Mom,

I’m still gonna remember

What a massive pain in the ass

You could be

And I’m still referring to you

As Ger-bear

Though I guess

It’s no longer behind your back

But I’m also gonna remember

How you helped

Put me back together

When I fell apart

How you held us all together

In the face

Of agonizing uncertainty

I’ll remember your hugs

When I needed them most

And I’ll always

Be able to hear you

Telling me

That everything will be okay

In loving memory of Gerry Lynn Peery Baiman; June 1, 1943–March 11, 2014.

Mothers and Daughters

Somehow it seems

That far too often

Mothers and daughters

Are oil and water.

Gasoline and sparks.

This was us.

Different perspectives.

Different opinions.

But the same tempers,

The same frustrations,

The same bruised toes,

And the same love

You ruffled feathers

When you thought

You were helping.

We all cursed your name;

And loved you just the same.

None of us are perfect;

But whenever it seemed

Like the whole world

Was against us,

Even if it was from

Our own doing,

You were there

To help us.

I always hated

Asking you for help.

Not because you gave me grief

But because

When I was at rock bottom

Was when you didn’t.

I always knew

I was in serious trouble

When the only thing you did

Was everything I needed.

For all the yelling,

And teenaged angst,

That somehow didn’t stop

At twenty,

Or thirty,

Or forty,

You were always the calm one

In the emergency.

In times of trouble

We looked to you

To guide us through

The storm.

Now, we have to face

Those storms without you

And I can only hope

That we can emulate you.

I have always

Been so glad

That I have sons

Instead of daughters

Because I knew

How difficult I have been.

And I couldn’t imagine

Another relationship

With the intensity of ours.

And now, I fear,

I won’t know what to do

Now that you’re gone.

Asking for Help is Hard

There are times in most of our lives when we could all use a hand.

If my life was in its normal groove right now, everything would be fine. I’d be busting my ass working as much overtime as I could handle and getting by. Just barely; but still.

My life is anything BUT normal at the moment. My mom suffered a severe aneurism and heart attack last Saturday evening. Her prognosis is grim and we’re expecting the neurologists to tell us tomorrow that she won’t survive.

As a result, I suddenly find myself preparing to drive 1,000 down to Florida to be with her, my dad, and my sisters and their families to say goodbye to her and help take care of my dad for a couple days.

I’ve got just enough time earned at work so that I won’t have to go unpaid. I’ve also got an amazing friend willing to donate some time to me (if the rules allow) so that I won’t end up completely maxed out. I am beyond blessed and thankful both for her and my job. And my boss has been so wonderfully kind and understanding as I try to deal with this and still be productive at work. I’m much harder on myself than she will ever be.

What I could use some help with is money for gas and food on the way down and back. I’ve had some extremely generous offers of assistance but I don’t want to lean on just one or two people.

So what I’m asking for is donations with a catch. I’m thinking of trading words for cash. I haven’t completely thought this through, but I can write something special for anyone who donates. Or, send an autographed copy of my book for bigger donations. Or, I don’t know. How about you tell me? I have a donate button in the menu at the top of this blog. If you have a few dollars you can spare, I could use the help. Drop a note in the comments (or email, DM, or message me in private) what kind of poem or what topic you’d like me to write for you and we’ll go from there.

If you are not in a position to help, or think I’m going about this in the wrong way, I completely understand. One of the lessons I’ve learned in the past few years, is that I am blessed to be surrounded by the most amazing and giving people. And, while asking for help is hard, not asking and suffering when there may be people who would love to help is the sad folly of pride.

I’m so very proud to say that I no longer worry every day that I can’t afford food or clothing. But not too proud to admit that fate has thrown me a knuckle ball that I’m having a hard time dealing with and could really use some help with.

Whether you can help or not, thank you for reading this and for all the emotional support you provide every day with your friendship.

Sue

Envy and Jealousy

This is a topic I’ve wanted to write about for a while now. Two events have finally made me pull the trigger.

The first happened a few days ago. A coworker was leaving for the evening and won’t be back to work for a few days because she was heading for a vacation in Florida while the rest of us are waiting out another winter storm and working as usual. After she left, another coworker started saying obnoxious things about how she hopes our vacationing coworker has a lousy time. About how, if the weather is nice, she hopes she ends up with a sunburn. At the end of her bitchy tirade, she said something to the effect that yes, she was jealous.

The second event was seeing a tweet where the person tweeted that they were in a lovely bubble bath sipping a drink and ended the tweet with, “You’re allowed to be jealous.”

The dictionary defines jealousy as feeling resentment against someone because of that person’s rivalry, success, or advantage. Whereas envy is defined as a feeling of discontent or covetousness with regard to another’s advantages, success, possessions, etc.  The difference for me is that jealousy includes resentment whereas envy involves coveting.

I tend to think of envy as wishing I had something that another person has. But for me, jealousy is thinking that someone has something that should belong to me instead. It is more than simply wishing you had something  that they have; it’s the resentment factor.

There are lots of times when I am envious. But when that happens, I don’t resent that person. If I want the thing they have, I can buy it or earn it for myself if that’s possible. If that’s not possible, than oh well. Unless that person did something unethical to get that thing, I’m not going to resent them for their good fortune.

I’m not sure what possessed my coworker to say such bitchy things. I hadn’t realized she could be so petty and nasty until that moment. Nor do I understand why someone would think a bubble bath and a drink should inspire resentful behavior.

Personally, life’s too short for those kinds of negative emotions. If I want something, I’ll work for it. If you get that thing first, good for you.

Maybe I’m just a stickler for using words correctly. Or maybe I’m a little bit more aware of the ugly side of jealousy and how it can impact a person’s life. Either way, jealousy is an emotion I no longer choose to experience; and a word I no longer use.

The Time and Space Around Us

The time and space around us

Is moving forward

Continuously transforming

Into what it must be

In every instant

It will not wait for you

To ponder what you might become

But it will respond

To your actions

Once you undertake them

You have the ability

To become other people

Not in a physical way

Beyond what habits you may change

And how those changes

In behavior

Can manifest them-self

In physical form

Your form

But in an intellectual

And attitudinal way

You have choices to make

In how you view the world

How you view yourself

You send your thoughts

Your actions and reactions

Out into the world each day

These are not random things

They have intention

They have meaning

And they have consequences

Every thought and action

Is another ripple

In an already turbulent surface

Your stream

Mixes and flows

Into around and through

So many others

We can become a wave

Or a waterfall

The new tide lapping

At a distant shore

Or merely the puddle

During a tumultuous storm

That washes away

When the uproar ends

You can be the future

If you pay close attention

To today

And be today

What you want to be tomorrow

What you were yesterday

Only mattered yesterday

And only relates to tomorrow

If you remain stagnant

If who or what you were

Is not who or what

You want to be

Then you should be glad

To know that you alone

Have the ability to change you

Struggling to get my words

So the Magic Spreadsheet was going great for me. Until it suddenly wasn’t. I’m not really sure what happened. I think it was a combination of things more than any one particular thing.

250 words isn’t a lot. Unless you tend to write micro poetry. And it usually only takes me between 10 and 30 minutes to write that many words. But then I leveled up to 300 words. And I started working 20+ hours of overtime one week followed by 10+ hours of overtime the next in a seemingly endless cycle. And I am also an editor.

I had been pushing myself to write longer pieces. And while I’ve done a few, it usually feels like I’m fighting who I am. And when I’m not, I’m having to write three and four pieces.

The time constraints of my life combined with my struggles with piece length combined this week to break my streak. After 67 days of writing every day, I posted three straight days of a big fat zero.

I started using the Magic Spreadsheet as a way to help my writing partner become more disciplined in his writing habits. And it’s worked. I was initially pissed at myself for breaking my chain. But I’ve never written for more than 30 days in a row before, so I more than doubled that. So, yesterday, I started all over again. And I’m hoping to go a lot farther this time.

I’ve gone back to the starting level of 250 words and am going to try to write more blog posts to help me hit my numbers.

Meanwhile, my writing partner has been kicking my ass in the word count almost every day. And I couldn’t be happier. I’m thrilled that this has helped him. So in that regard, this has already been a resounding success.

Now, if I can just keep writing…

Drowning

There are times

When you’re holding me

Tightly to your chest

As you move inside me

When I wonder if this

Us together

Is like what drowning

Might feel like

Unable to take a breath

Teetering on the edge

Until we claw our way to the surface

Together gasping

Air rushing in

The feeling of having been

Knocking on Heaven’s door

Together

Alive together

Drowning in your eyes

Breathing you in

Knowing for certain

No doubt

That you are

The oxygen I breathe

And the only way

I ever want to die

Would be to drown

In our love