Genesse Gentry

Genesse Gentry is the author of two books of poetry, Stars in the Deepest Night - After the Death of a Child and Catching the Light – Coming Back to Life after the Death of a Child. She lives in northern California with her husband Bill. They are the parents of daughters Megan and Lori, who died in a car accident in 1991 at the age of 21. Following Lori’s death, Genesse and Bill joined the Marin County, California Chapter of The Compassionate Friends (TCF). Genesse has continued being involved in that organization ever since. She has been meeting group facilitator for both the Marin County and San Francisco meetings as well as chapter leader. She is currently on the steering committee of TCF Marin, as well as Regional Coordinator for Northern California. She presents writing workshops at national conferences of The Compassionate Friends as well as for northern California chapters. Genesse appeared on the radio show “Healing the Grieving Heart” with Dr. Gloria & Dr. Heidi Horsley to discuss “Compassionate Friends: Finding Hope Through Service.” To hear Genesse being interviewed on this show, click on the following link:

Articles:

Open to  hope

On a Night in December

Every year, on the 2nd Sunday in December, bereaved families around the world light candles in their own homes or with others for one hour, 7-8 P.M., in honor and memory of all children who have died. This poem explains why we do it. On a Night in December In the midst of winter and all the trees turned bare, we were faced with shopping malls where carols filled the air. And thoughts all turned to loved ones, those present, and those not. For us, whose lives were drained of light, it was solace that we sought. And so began a […]

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Bereaved Mom ‘Saved’ by Looking Outward, Helping Others

After the death of our daughter Lori, I was completely devastated.  Everything I believed about life was tossed out the window and I was filled with despair. It felt as if grief would destroy me. Much of that time is now a blur, too painful to remember.  But I do recall clearly my feeling of disconnection from most of the world of the living. My life had been ruined and I had no idea what to do. The friends with whom I’d surrounded myself before Lori’s death had no way of knowing how to befriend me in this, and I […]

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Poem: I Wonder

When did sadness stop covering everything? I don’t know. It must have first been for moments, then maybe hours, days eventually. Then for a long time no longer ever-present, but just below the surface waiting for a thought to trigger it. Now, the ingredients of my life are suffused with contentment and joy, but even so, sadness can surface unexpectedly as the dark shape of loss stirs the cauldron and tears are added to the soup of life, salty still, but not as bitter or overpowering, adding an important flavor to the whole of me. From Catching the Light – […]

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Poem: First Thanksgiving

The thought of being thankful fills my heart with dread. They’ll all be feigning gladness, not a word about her said. These heavy shrouds of blackness enveloping my soul, pervasive, throat-catching, writhe in me, and coil. I must, I must acknowledge, just express her name, so all sitting at the table, know I’m thankful that she came. Though she’s gone from us forever and we mourn to see her face, not one minute of her living, would her death ever replace. So I stop the cheerful gathering, though my voice quivers, quakes, make a toast to all her living. That […]

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The Robin’s Song

It’s spring once again. Our part of the world is turning back towards the sun; trees are leafing out; wildflowers are blooming. Robins are again singing to one another. And, I believe, also singing to those who are grieving. Before my daughter Lori died, I was under the misperception that only the English robin had a glorious song. That smaller, red-breasted scalawag of a bird delights all who hear it, and I had felt that we in the United States had been short-changed when they’d misnamed its larger, boring American cousin the same sweet name. All I’d ever heard our […]

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Poem: Catching Valentines

Some of the nicest and most interesting people I know were born in February. So when she came on Groundhog Day I thought, Wow! How great is that! After her death, the huge shadow of sorrow that came with Punxsutawney Phil darkened our determined celebrations of her beautiful, but too short, life. But always, when we peered out and through our broken hearts we found signs that she was with us, birthday kisses on her special day. Now, as her birthday month approaches I know February may bring sorrow’s shadow, but mostly I wait, wide eyed and watchful to catch […]

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Poem: The Promise

Your birth brought me star shine, the moon and the sun; my wishes, dreams, gathered round my little one. My life became sacred, full of promise and light wrapped up in the child who brought love at first sight. The years of your living filled with laughter and tears, excitement, adventure, some boredom, some fears, but ended too quickly, ahead of its time the loss so horrendous, such heartbreak was mine. But from the beginning, one thought rose so clear: never would your death erase the years that you were here. I would not be defeated or diminished by your […]

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