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,
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 small tribute’s all it takes.
Genesse Bourdeau Gentry
from Stars in the Deepest Night –
After the Death of a Child
Genesse Gentry 2009Tags: grief, hope
I loved your poem, I am starting to feel numb again at the thought of the Holidays I just servied her first birthday. I love people who can express in writing what I so deeply feel.Danile Vann
Thank you for writing, Danile. It means the world to me to know that my poem brought you comfort. The holiday season can be so difficult after the death of a child, especially the first one. I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers. Do you know about The Compassionate Friends’ World-wide Candle Lighting in memory of our children? It is always held at 7 P.M. in each time zone. You can find out about it at: http://www.compassionatefriends.org. It always gives me comfort to join with our TCF group and light our candles together, but doing it just with your family is also a beautiful, heartwarming and very meaningful thing to do. Good luck and blessings to you, and thanks again, for writing. Genesse
I would love to share this poem with others via our Survivors of Suicide newsletter. May I?