Wednesday, September 02, 2009

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "


This is a little watercolor I did for HayHouse Inc. that is in Anne Wilson Schaef's "Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much" CARDS. I am the illustrator of all of those cards. I considered my own two daughters as I painted the one above. ~Kathy

"Young Girls Who Die Too Soon - Remembering Terry "

Her name was written on a stone
Terry
in a light pink shade of sadness
for she was a lovely
but very lonely 
girl
who had passed away in Spring
so many years ago now.

I guess one could say
that pink
had turned to blue
and  in the early mornings
when the sun
was not yet seeping though my windows
I heard her chanting
with all those tunes
that had turned into
a purple
hue.
And me 
feeling the light 
that fell through shades of wonder
gave in
to sorrow. 

Who would think to shred a blossom
before it could be opened?
It felt like that 
whenever I missed her 
and thought of her passing
on.
Sad tokens of roses and deserted vases
I will forever remember them
in closets tied fast 
to memories 
and a young girls potential dreams
and the gift of untitled songs.

Who would tread on that path?
The one that a girl would know
and possibly find herself in?
Not me
nor you?
Not even a startled lark
would paddle that row.

I wear a hat on formal occasions
just like my grandma used to do.
I decided later
after my last gallery opening
it was indeed an most appropriate
fashion statement
for me
to do.

Within my insecurities
I measured it
that hat
so its band fit
making me feel 
as my grandma would insist upon
well groomed.

And yes
indeed
 it was quite fitting
blue bonnet
in fashion I wore it 
in honor of a young girl 
who was never to meet a history
for she
was only doomed. 
Never to know gallery openings
at all
nor paintings
that filled a room.

I cannot count the stanzas
to poems that I write
not anymore
no
but I fill a notebook and stroke its moods
that my own mind
explores.
And
into this gloom felt
it all
so overwhelmingly
intrudes.

Oft times people strike a mood
and let me say here now
that in this tale
that stride 
does indeed
include
"you".
YOU made me feel too sad
and 
too alone
and wanting for a girl 
to rise
despite her passing
long ago.
And knowing she was not singing
anymore 
beyond 
a larks glistening eyes
or inside anyones heart
but mine
and maybe
her sister
mother and father.
I felt distracted
by you
and your demanding
unknowing
mimes
despite the eulogy
time signs.

I think sometimes that I might not surface
again
and I'll be that girl who died
oh
but then
sinking into my pillow
late at night
I reflect
knowing
that she had passed
in front of me
ahh yes
dying eyes.
So I charm my memories
despite a damsels 
last
pitiful
shrinking 
sigh.

In the morning
I find
that I am opening my eyes
again
to meet whatever that day plans.
Routine takes me ore
just like everyone else
just like everyone else...
except
maybe
a young girl I have known
except
a young girl walking
beyond
a rules exclusive ride
who meets me when I think of her
and cautions me
to walk beyond the sadness
of her passing 
and my own
sorrowful 
eyes.

Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
30 August 2009
Copyright 2009

4 comments:

Laura said...

A good friend lost her eleven year old daughter quite suddenly 1 year ago ...I read the obituary on my sons birthday..and was completely and utterly stunned. How could this happen...she just had a cold...her mother is a nurse like me...what was missed...I couldn't even go to her for fear..that she would end up comforting me...for her loss. We hug daily her mother and I and talk often about our children...including Hailee in our daily conversations...but I can not even comprehend ..losing a child ..and then having to go on.
What a beautiful painting and poem. as always you touch my heart!
Love and Light, Laura

Kathy Ostman-Magnusen & Dennis Magnusen said...

I have known many tragedies.. up close. I think that by a certain age everyone has, that we all have a certain history, some knowing more, some less. One thing I know is that people who lose their children still need to talk about them. I spent a few Mother's Days with a friend whose son had murdered his wife and then killed himself. We never talked about what had happened on those days, instead she took out things of rememberance like drawings he had done when he was little and we talked about the all that we remembered about him that was in fact dear and kind. I had known him since he was 4 years old, so I understood and felt the loss and confusion of him and what he had done. Yet, we loved him and she needed to know that someone understood that part of him, who decided on a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Ah the folly of youth, we must always remind youth that things do indeed change from day to day, and that tomorrow might just hold sought after solutions. So I love it that you are there for your friend and hold it in your heart so painfully, because it is painful. Thank you for reading my poem about Terri. She was a lovely young girl and I miss her. ~Kathy

Calli said...

They say there is no greater hell than that of losing a child. My heart bleeds for those who have suffered such a loss. I cannot fathom this in my heart, it breaks at the very thought.

Prayers for the memories and the journeys unlived~
much love, Kathy~
~Calli

Kathy Ostman-Magnusen & Dennis Magnusen said...

Thank you for your kind comment Calle.. you are such a dear. Blessings, Kathy