daffodils
in bloom again
last days
of my mother
up from my heart spring

It's that time of year, and here I am reliving all the painful days of last spring-my father's falls and trips to rehab, my mother's decline, the hair cut, the trip to the hospital and losing her so quickly as the earth warmed and the flowers bloomed.  I think it is good to remember, although a little painful. I don't want those days to ever be lost. I am grateful for the poems I wrote and the photos I took during that time. And of course, I am grateful I was there to help my mother leave this world.

Those fitful crazy out-of-my-control months spring from my heart as soon as all the signs of spring return,  I remember it was all I could do to keep up with the swiftness in which events unfolded, all the while, trying to hold onto the smallest moments along the way. The recovery has been long.  I am just beginning to feel like I've got my own feet beneath me again and that I can begin to make my days my own again.  Grief and healing is such a process.

I have begun work on a tanka book dedicated to both my parents. I have titled it "pink geraniums and whirligigs"--two things from my childhood that represent both my mother and my father for me.  I want it to have poems about them that I've written as well as poems that represent what they've instilled in me, perhaps also some old photos of them both. I want it to be a collection that honors my parents and where I come from.  I don't know if this has ever been done in tanka, but for me it seems natural and necessary.