Almost the hardest thing
I’ve ever done, was surviving
last Christmas. Choosing, buying –
wrapping up presents, chances were
you’d never open. Most, you didn’t.
Each day as it grew closer
I tore the paper off some more –
put the perfume in my drawer.
The pretty ankle-socks
I’d bought in Top-Shop,
tied in dainty tissue parcels,
angrily ripped open – fighting
back tears. I knew then,
you were too ill to use them.
Bracelets, combs – diamante slides
to decorate your hair, never given,
never worn, adorn my dressing-chest.
The gifts I gave to you that Christmas
morning, sadly dwindled to a few.
At best, a cosy dressing gown,
two pairs of pyjamas – ivory silk,
you needed so many of those.
Rose-scented hand-cream, courtesy
of Clarins, your favourite brand.
‘Moisturise, moisturise, moisturise’,
your mantra to the bitter end.
And, of course, the book
you’d especially asked for –
a guide book to Peru. You
were going there next Spring,
you and a friend. You’d go there
still, you said – in your dreams.
You said you’d read it then,
but you drifted off to sleep.
The hardest thing I’ve ever done,
was to open your gift. A letter
telling me goodbye, and unwrapping
a photo of you, smiling at me
from the back of an elephant.
The Kashmiri sunset reflected
in your eyes.
Comments
Ewan | December 19, 2008 - 11:30
Honest and heartbreaking. I know there are many cynics on here who might mock this, but they would be wrong to do so.
A moving poem. Well done.
Ewan
Ewan | December 19, 2008 - 11:52
double post
Bradene | December 19, 2008 - 12:02
Beautiful. Heart rending. Very brave. Typically you. Love Val x
Silver Spun Sand | December 20, 2008 - 11:17
Val - just thanks.
Tina x
Silver Spun Sand | December 20, 2008 - 12:02
Thank you for reading, Ewan.
This is a difficult time for me, as I have so many poignant memories of my daughter's last Christmas. Even the cynics amongst us I think, could forgive my committing them to paper. It is up to them whether they read it or not.
I'm touched that you did. Thank you again.
Tina
littleditty | December 23, 2008 - 13:51
Dear Tina, in many of your poems you paint her through your love so I feel I know her, like we have met on the traveller´s road, a determined intelligent woman of integrity, with a very bright spirit i would have remembered i think - your love for her as her Mother is so evident and so touching in this write, and it is difficult to know what to say - Val did - poignant memories are precious, and some kept and some shared on paper, testament - to both of you. Love to you over the holidays Tina, Nicky xx
Silver Spun Sand | December 23, 2008 - 21:13
How well you described my daughter, Andrea, dear Nicky and so yes, you may very well have met. I hope so.
Your words mean so much and I thank you for them at this Christmas time.
Much love to you Nicky.
Tina xx
andrea | December 28, 2008 - 22:41
Beautiful and sad, Tina. You can't, and shouldn't, ever forget.
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tamara (not verified) | January 19, 2009 - 19:05
Absolutely heart-wrenching and tear-jerking,you are a wonderful mother,how proud could a daughter be.
Lynne.x