I was where I am
When the snow began
—from “The Dead of Winter”
by Samuel Menashe
December is when planning is needed to find daylight for important conversations.
There is no grave to visit. The tall chimney never sleeps.
I was where I am when the snow began, standing outside of the crematorium. No amount of begging could have softened hearts hardened with rutted conditioning and reciprocal fear of intimacy. For the impotent, crumbs of control are pressed into service with desperate, miserable spite. You were doomed.
Now is not the time for such ruminations.
Each anniversary of your passing finds me here. As shadows fall across these broken shoulders, unanswerable questions, as bright as burning arrows, ascend, to God and to you, seeking the purchase of peace. Again I pointedly ask will you forgive me for my failure to transcend that which you created. Belches from when flesh, fat, and bone are seared to ash are the only answers.
[144 words]
Merril is today’s host for dVerse’ Prosery. Merril says:
write a prose story of up to 144 words using the top quote.
Tao Talk 
It sounds like there are so many regrets for what might have been. Anniversaries can be time for good and bad memories.
(The tall chimney that never sleeps conjures up other crematoria to me. )
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Thanks for the prompt line, and for your comment. Around here a few years ago there were billboards with competing prices for cremations. Covid has taken us to some extreme and undesirable places.
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You’re welcome, Lisa.
Competing cremations–wow!
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So many strong emotions, questions unanswered can make grief so complex. Powerfully written.
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Di, thank you.
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A really interesting take on the prompt. No grave for ashes… Seems that is the going thing these days. Regret does continue to gnaw away at us.
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Dwight, thank you. It’s definitely complicated. One way I’ve been able to “purchase peace” is to realize it is ok if there are no answers.
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That would help a lot of people. We don’t seem to like being out of control!
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“shadows fall across these broken shoulders, unanswerable questions, as bright as burning arrows, ascend, to God and to you, seeking the purchase of peace.”
Powerful imagery and writing. I believe many are seeking the purchase of peace.
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<3
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Excellent use of the quote Li. Beautiful words
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Thank you very much. Every time I write about the loss the pain is a little less. Thanks for reading as my witness <3
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You’re most welcome. Writing is cathartic too. Hugs 🤗
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<3
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Hard hitting for sure but certainly well depicted, Lisa!
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Thanks, Carol!
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The words burn, as do your questions. Forgiveness, peace is there for the taking, even for earth-bound angels with broken wings, even when the ashes are all we’re left with, but there’s so much pain, and understanding seems just out of reach. May you find healing, Li.
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<3 Dora, your comment is appreciated. Thank you.
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You’re welcome, my friend. Take care. 💞
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How sad…and yes there are always regrets and questions that everyone lives with.
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Thanks, Max.
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It made me think of my mom a little. So many regrets but nothing you can do.
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I know :(
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We had my mom’s funeral in a hard snow storm but of course for Mom I would go anywhere. Reminded me so much of that, her grave is on a hill top looking over the Missouri River, seen miles to the east.
..
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{{{HUGS}}}
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It is to often way to late, you most likely have to find the answers within yourself… weather is usually a stark reminder… for me it was in May… the most wonderful season.
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Good advice. My mom passed in June. It isn’t the season but the line that evoked the pain of her passing.
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p.s. Bjorn do you think it makes it easier or more difficult for your mom to have passed in the most wonderful season? I could see it both ways.
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The last paragraph is very compelling
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Thank you, Rog. About as real as it gets.
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Anniversaries are difficult times, Lisa. I have one coming up at the beginning of January, when making a fresh start is even harder. Winter is not really the time for finding daylight.
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You’re right, Kim. Hoping you are in warm embrace of family to help you then.
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Thanks Lisa. I tend to go quiet and internalise on 6th January. Poetry helps.
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You’re very welcome.
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Winter seems to drive the sadness home with a jolt. Perhaps that’s why Paul Simon used the season to craft such compelling songs. Winter speaks of loss, summer and spring have their share, but the sunshine lifts spirits, and winter drags you down with it. It’s been eleven years since my oldest son died, and for having such a blessed talent for writing, I have yet to write about his death; even when the sun is shining, I balk. A peaceful Christmas to you and your family.
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Phil, thank you for your sensitive comment. Can definitely see how Paul Simon used winter well in his imagery. Joni Mitchell has at least one or two good winter songs and I remember one by Chryssie Hyndes. May I please offer my condolences on your oldest son’s passing. Cannot begin to imagine and understand why writing about what happened to him would be so very painful and difficult {{{HUGS}}}
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That is a killer line, Lisa. Excellently rendered…
<3
David
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David, thank you <3
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Dark and poetic.
“Belches from when flesh, fat, and bone are seared to ash are the only answers.”…what a terrific line!
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Susan, thank you <3
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What is it about December that has so many of us feeling the loss. There are too many death anniversaries this month for me, too. Your prose is gorgeous, even while being tinged with regret and remorse and sadness.
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Dale, I’m not sure. For me December is a “season of the mind” rather than the actual month. My mom passed in June but my grieving process is far from over for her, my dad, and my grandma.
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I do get that. My dad was in May, already ten years ago and come December, he comes back more strongly into my thoughts. My grandmother, husband, two good friends, however, all died in December between the 18th and the 25th.
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Oh dear, Dale, that is a sad week, and so close to Christmas :(
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It really is. One of them ON Christmas. One of them, it will be a year on the 18th (which was also Mick’s birthday). It’s crazy. All of them from cancer or heart (my grandmother and Mick, on the same day, no less – 21st – were heart-related). But you know what? Yes, I have dips and ebbs but on the whole, I choose to focus on the happy. xoxo
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xo <3
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💞
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You took me with you to that place, prompted my own ruminations, my own loneliness/sadness. Well done, Ms. Lisa.
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Dear Helen, thank you <3
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December will be magic again
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Thanks, Glyn.
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A friend of mine told me she wanted a grave so her children could visit here there. But really the dead can be accessed any time or place, although the dark days provide the easiest access. (K)
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True enough. I do know neither of my parents have graves or headstones and that is a real shame from my perspective. There’s an aspect of indignity and disrespect when one’s earthly remains have no resting space outside of a cardboard box. And to be denied access to their remains is pure mean-spiritedness that karma will not look fondly upon.
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Did they request you keep their ashes in a box? My father requested we scatter his in the Arizona mountains he loved–I wrote a poem about it, and how we found the same place to scatter my mother’s ashes too. I have requested that mine be scattered somewhere in NYC–I like to think of my elements nurturing the place I love, and I’m sure that was my father’s feeling as well. My mother did not say what to do with her ashes, but we thought she would like being part of the same landscape as my father. A cemetery is the last place I want to spend eternity.
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Dad wasn’t ready to go and never specified. Mom wanted to be cremated and said (according to one brother) she didn’t want to go underground. A columbarium (sp?) would have been ok but not 100% sure. Are remains more important for the deceased or those loved ones left behind? Cemeteries can be where family members can be visited almost as if they were still alive (depending on perspective.) It’s a moot point now, at least for my folks and for my wishes.
My wish is to be planted in the ground and a tree planted over me.
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I think the difference is perhaps the fact you live near where your parents did. My family is very scattered–we would never be where the graves are to visit them. Three of my grandparents are buried in Ohio, and one, with his second wife, in Florida. My parents would have been buried in Arizona.
But I like your idea of the tree. If I owned somewhere for that to happen, that would be a good idea.
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Kerfe, I can see where you are coming from if your family is scattered. Except for one (step)brother who lives in TX (his dad was married to my mom) we all live within a 30-mile radius of each other. That said, we are worlds away in terms of being connected beyond having a common mother.
If you spread the ashes they are put into global circulation and surely their molecules will pass near you from time to time.
I think you could ask permission from a local cemetery to effect your wishes if you wanted to, but it sounds like you’re not a fan of cemeteries. Maybe another municipal venue you like?
I appreciate the dialogue we are having here, Kerfe. Haven’t had much of a dialogue about either of my folks much and it is helping.
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I appreciate it too. Maybe we can continue by email? I know your mother’s passing was fraught.
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Sounds good, K.
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I like how snow is a backdrop for the tension of grief, farewell and grisly reality of cremation, a sense of getting it done – when conversations need to be planned and when now is not the time there is a sense of process in play. Powerful read.
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Thank you so much for your feedback, Paul, and what you see in the poem.
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:)
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Nice 👌
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