Will Someone Meet Me On The Other Side. Poem by Norah Tunney
Will Someone Meet Me On The Other Side.
I remember the beautiful fall day
we sat in the car
dazed and bewildered-
one of us going home to die,
the other getting ready to say goodbye,
that night we fed the birds
and laughed
as we watched a robin
take a bath,
we had hot tea and apple tart,
and you kept dying
as you smiled,
as you slept,
as you gazed into the sky
long after the sun set,
and then you said-
'will someone to meet me
on the other side'
we looked long into each others eyes
and cried.
He gazed into the sky long after sunset. I could share with you those things that have stayed with me but perhaps it is enough to know that those personal things are perhaps the most bittersweet of all. The beauty of such sad and seemingly unfair things must be lessons if nothing else. Keep water in the bird bath, embrace your friends and live not to climb mount Everest to feel alive but just to hear the tea kettle and taste the apple tarts just once more in the moment.
thank you Edmund for this thoughtful commentary. i agree the aliveness comes through the ordinary things that make a life. Sometimes its as simple as the sheer simple wonder of breathing. We never know when we we may be having our last cup of tea together.Yes life becomes even more bittersweet with the passing of the years.
My wife died last year but it was quite sudden but knowing that a loved one's death is imminent is a very hard experience but you have expressed it with great sensitivity, Norah.
My heart goes out to you Tom a sudden death is a great shock, have you written about it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:14:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Norah... thank you for sharing your most tender loving agonizing moments with us. Oh, how your words speak of a joyful love a tender love and the pain of a growing day by day realization that separation looms, You wrote of these things with grace and vividly so we sat with you two and watched the birds bathe and then this: we had hot tea and apple tart, and you kept dying as you smiled, as you slept, as you gazed into the sky long after the sun set, - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - These must be the most poignant words in the world of literature. Norah, dear, we who read this, pray you strength, pray you comfort, pray you joy again. [Fav and 10 but neither of these things mean anything in the face of such grievous loss]
Thanks Susan it was bittersweet we had so many precious moments during the last 6 months. Long after he died little things he said would come to mind and I would write about it.