I woke today thinking of all the things in me that went and will continue to go unseen and unacknowledged by my mother, and felt like I needed something or someone to touch that place with me. Then I read this, and felt a whole lot less alone. Thank you.
Thank you, thank you, I could have written this poem. The fact that someone else wrote it and other people understand. It is such a balm. I will not carry their iron thing, and when I decided that I would not carry it, no one could understand since they carry their own parents' iron things. But I have self-awareness so I won't carry it. And I'm not like the parent who made a personal religion out of their parental iron things, so I won't carry that religion forward either. Thank you. I hate this holiday
When I told my rabbi that I couldn't say I loved my mother or my father, he said, "You don't need to love them, but you can honor them." So today I honor my mother. I ignore Father's Day. Thank you for the poem.
I don’t read poetry unless someone is kind enough to share it. I had a difficult relationship with my mother, who is long past, and have no children. But I’m blessed in so many other ways, including the writing (yours and this poem) you so generously share with us. I try to celebrate every day.
What can be said about Mary Oliver? A named Bodhisattva who heard the cries of the world and turned them into words so that we can all hear. It's not enough. Happy Mother's Day Elissa and there is always the blue wisteria.
Thank you for sharing this. I have been motherless for 4 years and I will spend today waiting to see if My daughters will reach out nothing new as I do this every year. Today I will celebrate myself and watch some tennis. 🦋
The “alas, alas” did me in. Does me in. Thank you for this, Elissa. When you write about your mom I feel understood in a way that is sometimes shocking. Hugs.
The first one is so hard. I always love how you write about your mom, and your relationship with your mom. Sending all my very best to you today, Elissa, in solidarity.
This poem. Caught my breath, slowed it, tensed my heart, made me become very still. Mary Oliver continues to astonish (me) in all the best and potent ways. I have many of her books but not Leaf and the Cloud, that I will now will soon add to the bookshelf. My mother died 34 years ago and left me holding our complex relationship still unresolved though somewhat softened around the edges with the passage of years.
"You never resolve the paradox of your parents." - Constance Worloe from I've Always Meant To Tell You: Letters to Our Mothers.
I didn't know what to anticipate on this first Mother's Day w/out mine. I've got nothing. I couldn't get through the poem but am saving it for another day. xo
Thank you for this, on this day that has never made sense to me, emotionally motherless.
Oh my gosh, how is it that I’ve never read this? Thank you so much for posting - so much here to chew on.
I woke today thinking of all the things in me that went and will continue to go unseen and unacknowledged by my mother, and felt like I needed something or someone to touch that place with me. Then I read this, and felt a whole lot less alone. Thank you.
Thinking of you and sending love, Elissa.
Thank you, thank you, I could have written this poem. The fact that someone else wrote it and other people understand. It is such a balm. I will not carry their iron thing, and when I decided that I would not carry it, no one could understand since they carry their own parents' iron things. But I have self-awareness so I won't carry it. And I'm not like the parent who made a personal religion out of their parental iron things, so I won't carry that religion forward either. Thank you. I hate this holiday
When I told my rabbi that I couldn't say I loved my mother or my father, he said, "You don't need to love them, but you can honor them." So today I honor my mother. I ignore Father's Day. Thank you for the poem.
I don’t read poetry unless someone is kind enough to share it. I had a difficult relationship with my mother, who is long past, and have no children. But I’m blessed in so many other ways, including the writing (yours and this poem) you so generously share with us. I try to celebrate every day.
Thank you!
Thank you for the poem, Elissa. Encountering a new-to-me Oliver poem, perfect for the day, is a gift.
What can be said about Mary Oliver? A named Bodhisattva who heard the cries of the world and turned them into words so that we can all hear. It's not enough. Happy Mother's Day Elissa and there is always the blue wisteria.
Thank you for sharing this. I have been motherless for 4 years and I will spend today waiting to see if My daughters will reach out nothing new as I do this every year. Today I will celebrate myself and watch some tennis. 🦋
The “alas, alas” did me in. Does me in. Thank you for this, Elissa. When you write about your mom I feel understood in a way that is sometimes shocking. Hugs.
phew! exquisite
❤️❤️❤️
“But the iron thing they carried I cannot carry.”
Oliver’s imagery is just so.
And so it is for me.
I cannot carry that burden.
Tho I tried.
I cannot carry the responsibility.
Tho I have.
No longer the executrix of that estate.
Tho the clusters of energy reside in the layers of my psyche.
Outgrown.
The first one is so hard. I always love how you write about your mom, and your relationship with your mom. Sending all my very best to you today, Elissa, in solidarity.
Thank you Rob- 🙏🏻🩷
Absolutely perfect. Assuages guilt, if any! A day for Hallmark, florists etc to make money.
This poem. Caught my breath, slowed it, tensed my heart, made me become very still. Mary Oliver continues to astonish (me) in all the best and potent ways. I have many of her books but not Leaf and the Cloud, that I will now will soon add to the bookshelf. My mother died 34 years ago and left me holding our complex relationship still unresolved though somewhat softened around the edges with the passage of years.
"You never resolve the paradox of your parents." - Constance Worloe from I've Always Meant To Tell You: Letters to Our Mothers.
I didn't know what to anticipate on this first Mother's Day w/out mine. I've got nothing. I couldn't get through the poem but am saving it for another day. xo
Sending love. ❤️