Apostrophe to life


I learned something today. Not a hard thing to do if a person keeps their eyes and ears open. There are learning opportunities all around each of us, every single day. Didn’t know that? Well, now you do. See? You learned something.

We are working on memorizing a poem in sixth grade this month. It isn’t one of those sissy poems, like I like trees…or whatever that one is called. No, this is a real poem full of intrigue, imagery, and individual interpretation. (notice all the I’s there? Yeah, cool…)

The poem is called Apostrophe to the Ocean, by Lord Byron. I make no claim to being a poet or knowing much about poetry and all of its various nuances and rules and such. But, I do love poetry. I love that no matter what rules and cages people try to put on poetry, it does what it wants. It reminds me of the Dada age of art. (which I hated) Back then, art was art if someone called it art. It didn’t have to fit any other description. Ridiculous you say? I agree. However, there is something there when it comes to poetry.

To me, Poetry is the pure squeezing outs of a persons’ soul and/or heart. It is the words that fall to the paper (or screen) when someone digs deep and just shovels it out. Words fall where they may, making pictures of things that cannot be seen unless viewed with an open mind and heart.

I tried to explain to the class today how to read poetry. It isn’t something you read once and say, Yeah, I get it. Poetry is read often. It is swirled around in the bottom of your glass and sipped and refilled again and again. Poetry isn’t a thing, it’s an experience.

Brad liked poetry. I bought him several poetry books by various poets. He read them, I read them, we read them together. It was one of our ‘things’ we did now and then.

Today would have been Brad’s 46th birthday. I can’t help but look back on our time together and remember the good times and bad times and the experiences we had together. It was and is something I relive again and again, swirling in my glass of memory.

I said I learned something today and I did. The word Apostrophe, in the title of  Byron’s poem means to address something that cannot answer back. Byron is talking to the Ocean. I am talking to Brad. He can’t answer me back, but I want him to know that I love him, I miss him, and I hope he isn’t too disappointed with how I have handled things in his absence. I have made mistakes, a lot of them, but I am still here chipping away at the task we were given. I’m not angry that he is gone. I am grateful for our time together and the tools he gave me to carry on.

“From these our interviews, in which I steal

From all I may be, or have been before,

To mingle with the universe, and feel

What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal”

Like it or not, Brad was, is and will continue to be a part of me and of our children. I see him in them everyday more and more. It is a comforting thing. It makes me feel like I’m not completely alone. Not really…..cause I said so.

Poem: Lord Byron

Photo: Google :o)

4 thoughts on “Apostrophe to life

  1. **weeps** Awe, Beckie, how beautifully heartbreaking and accepting. I cannot imagine a time that Brad will not be a part of your life; your first lover, the father of your children, your birthing partner. I think he does answer you in the deep quiet. He is proud of you and how you have held it all together. I am amazed by you every day, my Beloved Friendling.

    **blows kisses**

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