On Sunday’s I’m posting poetry written by my mother-in-law, Bettie Lou. Writing poetry was a form of therapy after losing her husband and then her youngest son in 1985.
Birthdays are Sad Days
Birthdays are sad days after death days.
Why can’t the energy required to grieve be used to remember the happy moments:
the birthday cake with the proper number of candles—
the “Happy Birthday to You” song—
the silent special wish before the candles are blown out—
a request for a trip rather than a “store bought” gift—
reminder from a son that “Mother gave birth to us because she wanted children. She didn’t need them.”
a quarter horse that was the most special horse in the whole world—
boats – motor boats, sail boats, and more boats.
So many happy days.
So few sad days.
Why do the sad days possess me?