Jim and Dan ~ The 2nd Anniversary of Their Deaths
My brothers live in photo albums
They wear Red Sox shirts
and eat watermelon in summer
They go to casinos
and hit the jackpot
sing karaoke
and drink beer when they want to
From exotic places by the ocean
they watch girls in bikinis on the beach
or go out to concerts and baseball games
and watch the weather channel on TV
My brothers live like postcards now
I write, “I wish you were still here”
on the back of each one
No stamps
No addresses
Their eyes don’t blink
They wave perpetually
from the places they have been
or put their paper thin arms around me
They still have opinions
and loud Boston accents
It must be hard for them
to be so quiet
to live like rumors
and in snippets of dreams
that those who love them
write down and save
They live on paper now
like money that can’t be spent
And I am like a teenager with a pop star crush
who kisses their 8 x 10s
My brothers would laugh out loud
at how odd it is to be dead
staring endlessly out from their glossy prints
while I am staring in
~ Colleen Redman 2003
Post notes: Last week I read a beautiful poem called My Dead that was written by a dVerse Poetry Pub poet. After reading it, I wanted to share the poem above that I had written for my brothers, who died a month apart in 2001 but discovered that I had never posted it on my blog before. So here it is. It still stirs my grief. It’s included (on the last page) in the book I wrote about their deaths, the first six months of grief, and growing up in a working class Irish Catholic family of 11 during the 50’s – 70’s.
Visit dVerse poetry pub HERE.
August 21st, 2012 4:19 pm
This is just a treasure of poetry. You have expressed what we all feel when the light goes out on those who cast a brilliant shine on our days. Bless you dear!
August 21st, 2012 5:39 pm
i am sorry for your loss…i am glad you still look at those albums and their memories live on for you…so alive in your words….
August 21st, 2012 6:47 pm
Urgh, this one hits hard and I too am so sorry to hear of your loss. However I am so glad I stopped by to read you this evening, you have created such a wonderful insight into what it is to look back on old photos of lost loved ones and want so much to reach in and join them in the moments they left behind. Much love to you and thanks for the share 🙂
August 21st, 2012 7:08 pm
I am so sorry for your loss… Heartbreaking. A beautiful tribute to them. Hugs.
August 21st, 2012 7:24 pm
Yes, it still hurts when I read this. I can not believe it is 11 years they have been gone…….but never forgotten!! Love you! xoxoxxo
August 21st, 2012 7:27 pm
First of all, I’m so very sorry you had to go through this. Secondly, I’m in love with this poem. I love poems written this way… some of the best stuff is written with high emotions of death of a friend or family member.
August 21st, 2012 10:51 pm
This is a lovely, sad piece. You described them well — full of life, fun and adventures. It must be hard, indeed, for them to be quiet. …maybe they aren’t. 🙂
August 22nd, 2012 12:13 am
oh colleen…so sorry for the loss..a very moving write…putting their paper thin arms around me…touching…
August 22nd, 2012 12:32 am
The 11th anniversary, now, right? I don’t doubt that it is still difficult. Hopefully, it will be become somewhat easier to bear over time. That’s what people who have lost close loved ones in such a traumatic way have said. I hope that happens for you.
August 22nd, 2012 12:44 am
Brought tears to my eyes. And this…
“They still have opinions
and loud Boston accents
It must be hard for them
to be so quiet”
…broke my heart. So haunting, so good, this write.
August 22nd, 2012 3:32 am
Such a beautiful poignant poem, Colleen….Very touching, my dear….I’m so glad you shared this with all of us—For me, at this time, it really goes right to the middle of my heart.
August 22nd, 2012 5:41 am
I am a brother, Miss Loose Leaf. And I don’t know or ever knew your brothers. But I think – that they think – you are beautiful too…… I’ve missed your blog for a while. And I must stop reading these intensely heartfelt poems when robbed of sleep because I can not see the screen through the tears. Which is a lame excuse for poor spelling, i suppose. Incidentally, i always made an effort to not let my sisters see me watching the girls in bikinis. I don’t know why. Because it never worked and they always did….. Sisters have radar. And are the best part of us.
August 22nd, 2012 2:23 pm
the metaphors and similes are deeply moving and rich in their story telling magic. i know you miss them, colleen. how proud they surely would be at the life you live and the way you assure they continue to be a part of it.
August 22nd, 2012 3:43 pm
Oh, Dear Dear Colleen, I am almost speechless at the beauty of your words for your brothers. I am sure they love you very much and you are ever in your hearts as they are in yours.
Sending more love to you than you will ever know.
xoxo
August 22nd, 2012 4:45 pm
A lovely tribute to your brothers. My mother passed just over a year ago and I still forget she’s gone sometimes. (I guess if we always remember them, they never truly are gone are they?)
August 22nd, 2012 5:26 pm
So full of life they were!
And now so many more of us know them than ever did in life. You tend their flame. I have to believe — although I am not conventionally religious — that you will see them both again. Just not in Bah-stun!
August 22nd, 2012 10:24 pm
Deeply put Colleen. I got lost for long moments in The Jim and Dan Stories after reading the poem. so brilliantly written.
August 23rd, 2012 7:29 am
My cousin Pam was killed by a drunk driver last spring. I only had two cousins. Now, I have just one, Pam’s sister Nancy, who was devastated by the tragic loss.
I had met Pam only once, when I was 5, and since she lived in Texas, and I in Hingham, our lives rarely intersected. Last month, Pam came to me in a dream, and held a ruby ring, and said I should let Nancy know that she continues to do her work…just not here, (not where we make noise.) The ring (I found out later) was one Nancy had brought back from South America for Pam when she was studying abroad.
Sometimes those who “continue their work” in elsewhere places do make noise…and sometimes in the quiet of the midnight hour, we can hear them–and their “ode to joy”
August 27th, 2013 6:38 pm
Oh Colleen–you are so right–such a deeply moving piece–my heart goes out to you