Thoughts After Choosing A Headstone
When it was time
to take your leave,
we picked out
your nearly-new
Italian-made suit
off the dollar-rack
at “Generations”
thrift store.
We matched
the dark blue
with your C.A. tie
and a packaged, pristine
white shirt.
I pulled out
the straight pins–
just as you, yourself, used to–
plucked them from the shoulders
and formed tidy piles
on the bedspread–
along with
the cardboard collar
and chest—stiff and thin.
We gave you
the “old country” send-off
you always wanted—
the pine box
and the raised glasses
of Bushmill’s best.
Then, Daddy,
I wasn’t afraid
to kiss your
cold, hard forehead
for the last time,
and lay my hand over
your Crayola-“flesh” toned
bony fingers
wound round with
the bog-wood beads.
“Glory be to the Father
And to the Son
And to the Holy Ghost
As it was in the Beginning
Is Now, and Ever shall be
World without end.
Amen.”
Kathleen Mortensen©2009 
3-5-3, 3-7-5 
This is a moving poem, & one that may have been difficult for you. All the details are well-chosen, but the last image of the fingers wound with the rosary beads is quite powerful.
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whew. a take on the theme i did not expect…touching…i gave my wife's moms funeral last year…tough…my son called her sleeping beauty.
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Stunning, Kat.
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Beautifully rendered heartbreak in every word.
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That's stunning, Kat. I'm torn between responding to the poem qua poem and sending cyber-hugs. Maybe both? Beautiful poem, especially heartbreaking “I pulled out the pins…” – a small thing that will always be with you.Wishing you the comfort of happier memories –
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Oh, Kat…this was so sweet. Brought tears to my eyes. Lovely, lovely poem.I never saw my Dad do this ritual of opening up a brand new shirt, but I do have fond memories of The Mister doing it many, many times over the last 25 years. He, too, makes a little pile of pins while I sit on the bed and watch. 🙂
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I was right there with you reading this. Those memories of death are so vivid.
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kata very strong statement of love. very well done.
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Kat, this is so beautiful and touching. You always amaze me with your gift with words. I have the hope that someday we will see our daddys again.
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I could not even breath after reading this, it hit so close to home. Mortality of those we would give up our lives happily for just to see one last time smile.
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This was so poignant and so sad, Kat. Hope you get your computer up and running soon.
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Hugs and kisses.
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What a touching poem. It fits well with some of the thoughts that have been crossing my mind lately.Very well chosen words…Have a wonderful Thursday.xo
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“Then, Daddy,I wasn’t afraidto kiss yourcold, hard foreheadfor the last time,”…this is one of my last, final memories of my father. Sometimes, I wish I had been afraid just so I would not know the feel of a cold, hard forehead of death.In my brain–Death=hard Life=not hard.
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Emotional and great writing. Thank you for sharing this poem with us :)Happy TTxoxo
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Hard to know what to say kat.But it's wonderful that you can feel it and that you can say it.Beautiful.Best wishes,Peadar.
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OH Kat. This is so sad. I couldn't kiss my darling Ray when he died . . but remember his mother stroking his hair and kissing his forehead. It's a lasting image. No parent should outlive their child.
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Damn Kat! This just hit home for me( I was the second biggest cry-baby at Pop's funeral and could hardly bring myself to touch his hand )…I'm hurting about now…okay, I'm better. One heck of a take on the theme!!
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Kat: emotional poetry and you caught me up with it. Really brings the death experience and send off into perspective.
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Powerful…
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A final kiss to say goodbyeTears spilling from your eyesIt's just a shellThat's left behindWhile all aroundThe radiance shines.
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Its a touching picture,very special great words !!!!
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My first visit here- I never seem to be able to get around to everyone on TT. So glad I got to you at last- I like reading poetry and this is very poignant. I like the description of 'crayola- “flesh” toned bony fingers'. So true. I like your take on the theme 🙂
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This just knocks me out..every word is so full of heart, of true feeling..exceptional!
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I'd like a question mark on my headstone.
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Wow. Kinda sad there. Sweet, but sad.
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So sad, yet beautiful writing, love ♥
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Hi! Poetikat,What a very reflective poem…characterize by a simple, sweet gesture a…Kissfor your Dad.Thank-you! Kindly for sharing!DeeDee
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This gives me chills as I remember my dad wearing his Irish claddagh ring when we put him to rest. I wrote about loss this week too.
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Wonderful, moving. I too am an orphan. -Jayne
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outstanding from every sensibilitywhat do you hear of Vyolet?I was sadened that I loved to read her and was sort of closed out..sk
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Another beautiful poem. Very well written indeed.Hope all has been going well. Take care, and have a wonderful weekend 🙂
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Perfect words in perfect order.A bit teary here as I kissed my mom's forehead and thought the same as you.Beautiful and emotional post.Not much more I can say.Your Dad's soul is shining.I just know it.Sorry for my absence. So damn much going on in my life right now.Hope you are well.~m
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Very tender, Kat.
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Gosh that was beautiful. Nearly made me cry to be honest. Lovely.
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Beautiful use of detail Kat – the nearly new Italian made suit, the little pile of pins, the almost personified stiff and thin cardboard inserts, Bushmill's best, the bog wood beads and all the rest of it. I had a quote from Emily Dickinson carved on my mother's stone and it always gives me comfort. “Ample make this bed./ Make this bed with awe./In it wait till judgement break/ excellent and fair.
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To gift death with life – the memory of a loved one, the detail of a goodbye – the gifting of death with the ever present life held in heart and memory – you so capture.
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Well done on this touching poem, Kat. Your description of your Dad's hands is exactly the way I remember my Grandpa's at his funeral. I was young and that image has stayed with me.Thinking of you as you honor his memory.Michele
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This is a memory etched on your heart for all time. It was so vividly written that my own heart reacted as well.
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Thank you for this beautiful poem, Kat. I too kissed my dad's “cold, hard forehead” for the last time, and you have touched on something very sad and profound here–your poem is both personal and collective.hugs
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Very moving poem Kat. I think most of us have been there with the kiss on the cold forehead. Beautiful headstone picture too.
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A poem full of sorrow but also full of love. Your love. Powerful images here. Touching to the core.
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