Bare Grief

Sometimes, I hear a song or read something that really resonates with me and something I've experienced. Most of the time, these have to do with grief - a grief unlike any other grief I've ever experienced. When I hear or read or see something that speaks to that place in me that was hollowed out by grief, I wonder what that person went through for them to get to that place, that depth.

A couple of weeks ago, I caught the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral" for the billionth time (more on that and my Hugh Grant obsession later). I love that movie, and seeing it again reminded me of a poem in it that really affected me even the first time I saw the movie. So much so, that I started reading more W.H. Auden poetry and bought one of his poetry books.

This poem so clearly and beautifully sums up the feelings I had after losing my son and losing a subsequent pregnancy 4 months later. It describes grief distilled to its barest essence.

Funeral Bluesby W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.