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Waking Recollections

Early in the morning, this past Friday, I woke up so alert and I replayed every second of the day before – when my parents were buried at Arlington Cemetery. I ended up writing eight (8!) pages in my journal, as I tried to decompress. Let me share a poem about my wakeful thinking and this special day.

waking recollections
in dark of night 
clarity 
rushes through my mind’s door
holding
every memorable moment 
every caring conversation 
every tender touch  
letting me
embrace these again 

thoughts gather like an old engine warming up
sputtering spewing spitting
so many different directions
all at once

there we were at Arlington Cemetery
the day bright and clear
my four brothers and I
loving family and friends
to bury Dad and Mom

so many faces I had not seen 
in years
new babies to meet
hugs kisses squeezes 

waking recollections
in the dark of night

remember the waiting room -
just my brothers and I 
the military escort 
explaining logistics
how the procession works
my eyes fixating on boxes of tissue 
the realization 
this room held pain grief tragedy
young military lives lost

whereas we were here to honor 
lives lived fully and long 

outside in the parking lot
little ones danced and squealed
stories chuckles whispers shared
such a glorious day

my cousins, aunts, uncles 
my parents’ cousins, too
so many friends from long ago
neighbors and colleagues
everyone here together
supporting us

the military service -
we walked behind the caisson
cannons fired from the hill
the honor guard in rapt attention
band marching, playing Taps
rifles fired in a 21 gun salute
while eight sailors held the flag
so reverently
over my parents’ urns
turning, folding, respecting

that moment -
the officer
handed the flag to me
saying 
on behalf of the President of the United States
the United States Navy and
a grateful nation
please accept this flag
as a symbol of our appreciation for
your loved one’s
honorable and faithful service

he looked right at me as he spoke
and his eyes watered
leaving my eyes 
his mirror

their resting place -
now they are nestled together
on the hill
under the tree
overlooking the cemetery

their great grandchildren play among the headstones

a fabulous celebration followed
in the officers’ club
like so many days long ago
it feels so ‘once upon a time’
those early years 
when base life was my daily life
so much has changed
then and now

waking recollections
in the dark of night

remember we arrived early -
before the burial
and set everything up
the guard at the base gate 
spoke with an accent
our armed forces, so diverse

the room came alive -
sweet memorabilia on the table
slideshow through the years
stories shared at the mic 
spontaneous laughter and tears 

so many conversations 
so many relationships
intersecting

he tells me he was head of security
remembers me as a teenager
she tells me she’s my father’s cousin
and I am just like my mother
they tell me they are longtime friends
from my brother’s church

remember, too -
oh yes yes yes
she would love to have 
her grandparents' china

what a story -
the coincidence of parking
next to them after so long estranged
the unopened letter now in their hands
and hope to heal this family hurt

remember how -
the room became so quiet 
when I shared my poem

in the middle of the night
I am overflowing 

let me sit with this word - recollection 
let me hold in my heart
look closely at its middle: the word ‘collect’ 

we collect what we love, yes? 
to re-collect 
is to savor these treasures again 
to use one’s thoughts 
to gather these love moments again 

to sift through them 
like treasures on a beach 
holding the best ones very close
 
waking recollections
in dark of night 
clarity rushes through my mind’s door
holding
every memorable moment 
every caring conversation 
every tender touch  
letting me
embrace these again

It’s Tuesday and I’m participating in the Slice of Life. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, for creating this supportive community of teacher writers.

Published inUncategorized

7 Comments

  1. Maureen, this is beautiful, your words, the photos, all amazing. The lines accompanying your receiving the flag made my eyes well w/tears, too. I must say I’m so glad the president referenced in those lines is the one we have now and not that other one. It makes a difference. “Collect” and “recollect” are the perfect verbs for this memory. I’m so touched by your sharing the experience in this space and think that image of children playing takes us full circle and is a symbol of hope for our future as a nation.

    • Glenda, I am so glad that you enjoyed this post. We had such a momentous, memorable week here. My brothers and I agree that everything went perfectly – the weather, the service, their final resting place, the loved ones gathered to share memories …truly, “pinch me perfect.” I am feeling blessed!

  2. What a beautiful set of pieces and photographs you’ve brought us, Maureen. The way you’ve put together such varying images and ideas is astounding – from the grief and gravity of the day to the excitement and play of the children who’ve been brought along. And the hand-holding photos, right by the rows of gravestones and then down to that blue, blue, blue sky. So much you’ve brought us.

    One stanza that will stick with me?
    “thoughts gather like an old engine warming up
    sputtering spewing spitting
    so many different directions
    all at once”
    And isn’t that how it goes with competing thoughts and feelings, coming all at once or none at all, oblivious to the type or direction we’d like them to be?

    • Thank you, Lainie. Yes, I tried to capture that sense of competing thoughts and feelings during my wakeful night (the early morning after this extraordinary day). Perhaps a better metaphor would have been fireworks – all these little sparks of memories and flashbacks, some huge and lingering. It was a glorious day, one that will stay with my family forever. I appreciate your words!

  3. Maureen, I am glad that I read your slice. It was a beautiful recollection of all of the parts of a cherished event. The photos will remain as a tribute to your parents’ memory, your poems will flood your heart each time you go back and remember. I, too, loved the stanza Lainie chose. Your mind must still be racing with joy. Peace to you.

    • Thank you, Carol! I started to write my slice for the day and became so engrossed in ‘replaying’ everything, that, yes, I just went all in and decided to create a tribute ‘keepsake’ – if only for my own pleasure. My mind is “racing with joy” – love that!

  4. How wonderful that you woke up alert and recorded the thoughts in your head for future generations to read. You took us through every step of this beautiful day. I particularily loved this stanza:

    he looked right at me as he spoke
    and his eyes watered
    leaving my eyes
    his mirror

    The poem you shared about your parent’s marriage picture was equally as beautiful. If only each partnership could have:
    a love anchor
    stored on the underside of marriage’s hull
    at the ready
    throughout

    Your marriage poem inspires me to go back and look at an old photo and examine every part of it.

    Thank you for sharing this beautiful day with us.

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