I recently attended the funeral of the mother of a good friend of mine. It was joyous for a good and long life lived and sad for the loss of her spirit.
Today is also D-Day (which many Americans probably don’t even realize), with the tremendous loss of life on Omaha Beach in Normandy, France. A day that turned the tide in the Second World War. The pictures of the rows and rows of white crosses marking the burials of American soldiers moved me, as it always does, to tears.
When I am sad, I often write. It pulls some of the sadness out of me and puts it on the table where I can deal with it. I wrote a poem today as a result. If it’s not a good poem, it’s because I’m not a poet, but it says what I’m thinking. It’s called Mortality.
Mortality follows us on soft kitten paws
Unnoticed when we are young
First heard when we have children and think of their futures
But behind and around the corner
The children leave the nest and the soft padding comes closer
We plan for when it arrives
There comes a day when we can’t stay ahead of it
We look down and there it is, sitting on its soft kitten paws
Reminding us that we are just part of a continuing cycle
Our time is drawing to an end
It’s following our children on soft kitten paws