Mother Sorrow
by Darrell Petska
Profound sorrow nearly claimed Mother.
Father and I lived the same loss.
Home’s comfort had fled.
We lost 9-year-old Shirley.
Until the day Mother died, a sadness
like clouds swam in her eyes.
Enshrined memories sustained her.
She bristled at the thought a mother
could ever “get over” such loss.
Neither more children nor pleasures
of rural living fully assuaged her.
How she prayed, beseeching god’s peace.
In time, Mother loved, laughed,
nurtured again, but differently, worries
and warnings as frequent as hugs.
She seldom mentioned Shirley. What need?
She visibly bore that sadness always, though
Shirley, she knew, had gained heaven.
Mother loved widely, deeply—and I see now
she grieved to the point of collapse
by summoning the sorrow from our hearts
that she might enfold all in hers.
PAINTING: Bleeding Heart by Bernadette Resha (2017).
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: My sister’s death, and its aftermath, are seared into my memory. Though loss is utterly personal, its effects are often communal. My family was lifted back to our lives by others. In memory of Shirley, our small farming community helped erect a shrine to Our Lady of Fatima, which stands before the parochial school Shirley and I attended. We all bear our losses forward, honoring their memories the best ways we can.
PHOTO: The author as a child with his sister, Shirley, and parents (Angelina and Eugene) in front of their Nebraska farm house (1956).
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Darrell Petska is a retired university engineering editor and a two-time Pushcart Prize nominee. His poetry appears in Verse-Virtual, 3rd Wednesday Magazine, Star 82 Review, Silver Birch Press, and widely elsewhere. Find links to his work at conservancies.wordpress.com. A father of five and grandfather of seven, he lives near Madison, Wisconsin, with his wife of more than 50 years.
Silver Birch Press 
Darrell On my phone so I can’t use comments. Wonderful poem. Thank you for including a CB link to your sister so we can know what happened. It deepens the sadness but also the blessing of basking in her smile for the moment her picture appears. We had a dear friend whose child drowned at a pool party and I spent many hours with the child’s mother afterwards Then. When he was 19 our Ron was hit by a car while crossing g the street on his college campus Much love to your family Joan Leotta
Joan, thank you for your caring comments. A mother’s sorrow I think is deepest of all. Mothers give so much, as you know.
Darrell
It is hard to imagine what she felt in such loss. Nor do I want to. I’m glad you wrote this lovely poem, and included yourself … it was your loss, also. God bless you.
Marie,
Thank you for your kind note and blessings to you as well.
Darrell