On the last day of the March Open Write at Ethical ELA, host Shelly Martin-Young invited participants to write a poem modeled after “Relax” by Ellen Bass. Shelley said: “Think about all of the things that are happening in your life right now, good or bad. Make a list and write your ‘relax’ poem. When my students write their Relax poems, I have them start with Ellen’s first line: Bad things are going to happen. So start there and just write. Maybe by the end of the poem, you will be able to relax, let it go, and taste the sweet fruit.”
So I took the first line, and wrote…
Carrying On
Bad things are going to happen.
Your husband will break the handle
off your favorite coffee mug
(the one with Shakespeare’s signature,
that you’ve had since your freshman year
of college). Your young son will lose
the basketball pendant that belonged
to his grandfather in the 1930s.
It will never be found. Your car dashboard
will burst into flames midway through
a long trip in the mountains and you will discover
there’s not enough Dr. Pepper
in that bottle you’re holding
to douse them. People will disappoint you
and confuse you with their chameleon loyalties
—“fickle,” your mother will tell you,
while you are still a child.
And the time will come when you no longer
have a relationship with your mother.
You’ll learn, to your astonishment, that your
father is the family glue and everything will
fall apart when he dies. The baby finches
in the nest on your front door wreath
—so perfect, so wondrous—will also die
without warning. You’ll find all five
with their yellow beaks frozen open to the sky,
their tiny bodies quivering with maggots.
Your husband will be diagnosed with
the beginning of ocular melanoma.
He will sacrifice his left eye in order to stay alive.
Then, one Sunday afternoon,
he’ll go into cardiac arrest
while driving home from the gym.
He’ll be resuscitated. He’ll endure two surgeries.
When he’s over all that, it will be time for
his spinal fusion. He will depend on you
more and more…you’ll break your left foot twice
and still keep pace with the days as they unfold…
for the days become years
and the years will bring you
two little granddaughters.
This, this will be the richest time
of your entire existence,
as rich as the red on the breast of
the reddest male finch you’ve ever seen,
singing so beautifully there on your porch
that your heart will be filled to bursting with the sound
of life, carrying on.
*******
Composed for Day 25 of the Slice of Life Story Challenge with Two Writing Teachers
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lit bits and pieces 
Fran, that day brought out some lovely poems, and yours is just a jewel in the crown of poetry. I think what I love more about these is the forgivenesss and the resiliency it takes to move forward in the quest for acceptance of things we wish we weren’t dealing with. It’s such a small thing, comparatively speaking, but I dropped the coffeemaker over the weekend and while it didn’t break, it’s not quite right anymore. I told my husband I’d rather he had dropped it because I would get over it faster. I’m harder on myself for mistakes and accidents than I am on others – and I think I needed to read this poem again to be reminded that we will drop coffeemakers. And we will face tough challenges. Thank you for sharing this one today.
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I, too, am very hard on myself and unforgiving of myself. As I grow older I am learning to be better about this. More proactive and less reactive, let’s say. Your coffeemaker, a symbol of something that makes life pleasurable, now damaged; I get the sense of frustration and “it’s my own fault…” and then there’s all that comes so unexpectedly. Resiliency is born in moment-to-moment living, for trying to process the whole big picture at once is paralyzing. We do need the little pleasures – the coffeemaker, the finch song – to cope. A little goes such a long way. Jesus said the same of faith. 🙂 Thank you for your words and heart, Kim.
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I’m not sure I have the words to respond to your poem. I think I just need to sit with it for a while and feel it…think about it…hold it. The world is so filled with bad things, but also with magic and miracles. You have captured this so beautifully here. I’m sorry for your hardships and happy for your joys.
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Oh yes, the world is filled with magic and miracles, despite all. That’s so beautifully said – thank you for this!
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Your poem tugged at my heart in so many ways–in pain and joy. Your choice of details was powerful. I love how you used the bird imagery for despair and then for the turn at the end. So lovely. Happy grandmothering!
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Thank you, Marilyn, especially for noting the bird imagery and the return. I figure – if the little finch can return and sing so beautifully after toiling so hard just to suffer such loss – I can carry on as well. The song never fails to lift my spirits, to the point of awed tears.
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Fran, I love how this poem reveals so much personal story while at the same time being universal. Yesterday my husband found 2 infant possums. I cannot fathom that we could not care for them, even though God makes a lot of possums. Why is that such a heartache today? Bad things do happen and it’s not the end of the world. We make it through. Thanks for helping me see the hope in it all.
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Margaret, I think mother possums may have more than they can care for at one time. I wonder if something similar happened to my finches last year; perhaps one of the parents was injured or killed and the other simply couldn’t manage five babies alone. But nature is resilient, and every day I absorb more of its teachings. Life is short…let us live it well and return thanks for it. As I thank you now, for your words.
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Such a powerful poem. You have certainly gone through so many trials and turmoil, but it’s all been made worthwhile for you and given the desired perspective when we reach the final part of the poem and its wonderful conclusion. Yes indeed, life carries on and the lows make the highs that much higher!
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Every life is marked by trial and suffering, and we must make choices along the way. I don’t concentrate on the ‘bad things’ – I almost didn’t write this poem, but then again, it all happened and I am where I am now. The poem comes from a place of gratitude…I didn’t come through it all alone. Faith sustains. The finch song reminds me that there’s always joy to come; look for it, and savor it. Thank you, Celia, for your response.
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Fran,
You have revealed so much in this poem. I thought my heart would break reading about the finches, but then I read about your husband and the burden of his suffering. It’s a lot. And your poem brings to mind so many memories. I didn’t take the same approach Bass does in her poem when I wrote mine. I need to feel very detached to share lots of things about life. You him on the why when you acknowledge how people disappoint. Most do. And sometimes it’s hard to recover from that disappointment, so I find self-disclosure challenging when it comes to the things that can cause me heartache.
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Glenda, I almost didn’t write this poem. I am private by nature and I don’t dwell on ‘bad things,’ not having desire or energy for it. Yet…the pull was strong and the poem comes from a place of gratitude, for I haven’t come through it all alone. Others helped me through – my church family as well as my writing community. Mutual sustaining, encouraging, blessing – the true power of community. The finches, too, are part of it…so small, yet so powerful a symbol of overcoming and finding joy. Thanks so much for your response.
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This is so heartfelt and heart-full. So much of your writing really resonated with me. I could have written:
“the time will come when you no longer have a relationship with your mother.
You’ll learn, to your astonishment, that your father is the family glue and everything will
fall apart when he dies.”
It is like you read my mind. My father just died last year and it sounds like we have the same mother. I love how you are able to express this thought, my thought, in your writing. This slice is one that I will revisit.
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I am so glad this poem resonates with you yet sorry to hear of the passing of your father and fallout with your mother. I’ve held onto this for a very long time, not having written anything about it – and now I am at peace in doing so, especially if others find it helpful. Wishing peace to you also and thank you for your words! Write your way though, as much as you can. 🙂
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What strength in laying out so many bad things and staring them in the face, and putting them in their place in the whole fabric of your life. My favorite part is where you write so unsparingly about the little dead finches, teeming with maggots. Yes, we need to face it all; that seems like a metaphor for the rest.
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Thank you for your words, Fran. Writing the poem was an act of courage for me – there are always things we prefer to keep “close to the vest,” so to speak. Yet – our life’s stories connect us to each other, as we have experienced over and over in this Challenge and elsewhere; we draw strength from one another. Even from such things as little finches, thriving in the nest then suddenly dead; yet the father returns to sing a song so heartbreakingly beautiful and joyful that it brings tears. How can I not go on?
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Wow, this poem is breathtaking. You take us to the abyss and back, ending with something hopeful. The image of the frozen finches and the last stanza blew me away-
“This, this will be the richest time
of your entire existence,
as rich as the red on the breast of
the reddest male finch you’ve ever seen,
singing so beautifully there on your porch
that your heart will be filled to bursting with the sound
of life, carrying on.”
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Thank you, Cindy – I always take your words to heart and am grateful for every one!
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I cannot even attempt to follow any of these comments…I am surrounded by your words and the stories that they wove together. While I love that this all came from that prompt, I am terrified to see where it could take me (which is what will make for a future piece, despite the fear).
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Amy, I almost didn’t write this poem, as I don’t dwell on the ‘badness’ of things that happen in life …rather, on the overcoming or hope of it. Bass’s poem “Relax”, the mentor text shared for the prompt, leaves an image of a person barely hanging on yet finding a strawberry and concentrating on its seeds. I needed more…and so I wrote. I love this last line of your comment – that you will write, despite the fear. As writers – as humans! – we are always trying to find our way through. Courage, my friend – the story is yours, as is how and when to tell it!
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Oh, I am simply astounded by the depth, the insights, the tough situations and beauty you packed into this poem. You are an example of resiliency and I imagine you as a tender, tough woman with lots of faith. Thank you for sharing this personal and poignant poem. I will return to it repeatedly because it requires reflection and I will also use this when I need to relax and just let the good, the bad and the ugly flow. Thank you so much.
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Rita, thank you for this deeply gracious response – I am hoping the poem imparts peace, for, despite all, that is what I feel. I didn’t come through all these things alone; I had my faith and the help of a loving church family; I had my writing, and my writing communities, built on mutual respect and support. We’re all here to help one another…I am grateful for you and your words!
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Wow – this is beautiful and amazing. I loved the whole idea of it when I started reading your piece – and then I read your actual poem – and I am speechless at all that you have put in here. Beautifully done. I really want to try one of these – and I’m going to need to read yours a few more times!
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Thank you for this lovely comment. There are times when the writing comes really, really hard – I’m sure you know!- and times when it seems to write itself. For me, this one just flowed, once I got started. Do check out “Relax” by Ellen Bass, as it was the model for the prompt that inspired this. I needed, at the end of my poem, to celebrate all the joy that life still holds. When you write your poem, I’d love to know!
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I finally tried it today! Well, I tried it a few times…. But doing it on all of life was hard … so I did it just for March. I really want to try again. Thanks for the inspiration!
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I just read it and loved it – that is an amazing piece of creativity! Plus a wonderful artifact of this year’s Challenge.
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Each one of those “bad things” is a story within itself. I wonder about your feelings as you penned these lines; did the hurt resurface with each memory, or was it a cathartic exercise, the release of the event to the history to which it belongs, with the growing realization that you truly are on a hero’s journey? Either way–a beautiful piece.
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Great question: How did I feel as I was writing each ‘bad’ memory? Strangely enough: Peaceful. Grateful. These things happened, but I’m on the other side of them, albeit with “new normals.” So much of life is knowing what to hold onto and what to let go (easy to recognize, maybe, but hard to do). I almost didn’t write the poem because I’d rather not dwell on ‘bad things’ but am glad I did, as they really aren’t the focus – coming through is. I didn’t do this alone; I had faith, church family, friends, beautifully supportive writing communities, and writing itself. There were long spells when I couldn’t write because I didn’t have the time, brainpower, or will to do so; but then comes a moment when you know…just do it. The mentor poem triggered a lot for me; and as private as I am (does that sound surprising?) I decided to let it flow. I knew from the start that I’d end with the finch song, somehow — for if it can return to sing after such suffering and loss, so can I. Thank you for your always-deep insightfulness, Chris, and for your words.
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Fran, I have read your poem several times now, each time more comes out to me. I appreciate reading the other comments here too. Like Margaret said, your poem is full of your rich story as well as universal truths, a masterpiece really. Today I am taking this with me, intent on enjoying every speck of life, “your heart will be filled to bursting with the sound / of life, carrying on.”
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Denise, thank you for this beautiful response. You have captured the very soul of the poem – “enjoying every speck of life.” For it is short…there’s really no time to waste; let us be about the joy we can find and share, and helping each other through!
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