GOODBYES....

I find saying goodbye a hard thing to do. I'm not talking about when someone moves - at least that way they can still be in contact. Texts, phone calls, emails, Facebook even the old fashioned notion of cards or letters. But when someone dies - that's the kind of goodbye that frankly - sucks.

I've had to say quite a few goodbyes in my time. Family, friends.... although mostly family. And the one thing about being a writer, goodbye when you have memories and access to pen and paper, is not definite.

Often, to my horror, I find that poems are written almost straight away. Most never to see the light of day. They are full of pain and unabashed loss....these are raw pourings as I try to express what of course, is almost impossible to express. They are thick with cliche, heavy with emotion, dense with sadness.

Then after a while, once the initial pain has deadened somewhat, the writing turns to memories.

I try to capture elements of the person lost. Perhaps quirks, the way they spoke, their favourite food, the way they made cup of a tea in fine English china. It's all those little things, that over time is lost. There are photographs - but they are never enough.

My mother died when I was twenty-one- a long time ago now- and there are so many things I remember about her...but I've forgotten how she talked. I can no longer hear her voice. This upsets me. I begin to wonder what else I'll lose.

So I find snippets of those gone ending up in poetry and stories. Someone's love of black jelly beans, someone's wicked smile or gentle voice, someone's warped sense of humour. There will be images- they way they made tea (turning the pot one and a half times) - the way their garden came alive and the gardens of their neighbours - tall stories told (and believed by a young me) - a hearty laugh that invited others to join in.

Being a writer has many downfalls. Yet it also offers up the opportunity of holding on to so much.
It means we can wait a bit longer before saying...