A GOOD DAY TO DIE

 My grandson is in a poetry class to fulfill one of his University requirements, and it inspired me to write another poem.  I haven't written one for a long time, and this one is "free verse".  

A Good Day to Die

by Lola Cain

October 31, 2021

 

It was a good day to die

Spring had just brought new life:

Trees were leafing out

Birds were singing

The grass was green

And hope for new beginnings was alive

But not for her

 

It was a good day to die

Life for her had lost meaning

She was unable to see her purpose

She gave up on life prematurely

And in choosing death she gave up on herself

And on my siblings and me

She chose that day as her goodbye

 

It was a good day to die

A day that poured pain into many lives

A day that left sorrow in its wake

A day that would never be forgotten

A day that ended her personal losses

And became the start of ours

A selfish day that is cemented in memory

 

But for her it was apparently a good day to die

And the fallout of her choice?

We’ve become more resilient 

We are more tolerant and stronger

Than we would have been

Had we never endured that pain

Still, for us, it was not a good day for her to die

 

 

In memory of Nellie Nina Scott Rice, mother to Duane, Ken, Lola, and Gary.  Nellie committed suicide April 3, 1953, and the age of 37.  Forever missed.  Forever in our hearts.  Forever loved. 

DEATH STINGS

We lost a friend last night, and I have spent today remembering shared joys.  She was a delight to be with - a good conversationalist - and she had even more opinions than I do!

She loved her family deeply, lived life to the full, and was a woman of character.  She had several wonderful collections that I enjoyed looking at with her, and she had a warm and generous heart.  She was direct and stated her views openly.

And she loved humor.  A couple of years ago at Christmas she sent me a story I will share that is representative of her enjoyment of humor.

A man in Florida calls his son in New England the day before Christmas and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough."

"What are you talking about?" the son screams.

 

“We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the father says.

"We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in New Hampshire and tell her."

Frantic, the son calls his sister who explodes on the phone, "Like heck they're getting divorced," she shouts.  "I'll take care of this."

She calls Florida immediately and screams at her father, "You are NOT getting divorced.  Don't do a single thing until I get there.  I'm calling my

brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow.  Until then, don't do a thing.  DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says,

"The children are coming for Christmas and paying their own way."

Laughter is good like a medicine.  

My favorite story about her goes back to when she got pregnant with her last child, and at dinner at their house she told me, "I don't know how this happened."  And I quickly replied, "You're a nurse."  I was pretty sure she could figure it out.  Of course that wasn't how she meant what she said - but  it was what she stated - and we had a good laugh.  

The thing about traveling down memory lane is that the joys are bathed in current tears, but JOY comes in the morning.  That's the Lord's promise, and I know from experience it is true.  But right now I agonize for her family - and for us.  We share the loss.  

Rest in peace, Ann.  It was a joy to have you in our lives.  I wouldn't ask you to suffer longer, even though I feel cheated by not getting to see you to say our last goodbye on this earth in person.