[Editor’s Note: Dr. Hoult, Culver City’s poetess laureate, is at her quintessentially most poignant when discussing family, especially the loss of her only son. He died in an accident 15 years ago. Going to the cemetery, as she and husband Charley did yesterday, “is not an easy visit, even after 15 years,” she says.]
Another Day, a Mother’s Day
Written May 10, 2009Another day, a mother’s day
With weather nice and mild
A celebration so they say
Again without my child
It’s been ten years that he’s been dead
Ten years of trying to carry
Mem’ries of him within my head
While at the cemetery
I place the flowers on his grave
I wash the gravestone clean
And lines in marble deeply carved
As if I’m in a dream
The drums, the fish he dearly loved
So white against the black
And then his name and date he died
My fingers have gone slack
I drop the shears onto the ground
My eyes begin to blur
I keep myself from falling down
As tears begin to pour
I miss you so, my darling boy
What more is there to say
Wish you were here to bring me joy
To wish me “Happy Mother’s Day!”
This one I wrote on April 27, what would have been Dave's 45th birthday:
Happy Birthday, David – 4/27/1969 – 3/5/1999
He would have been forty-five, you know
If he had still been alive
It’s been fifteen years since his life’s end
I remember well the call from his friend
Her words were muffled through her tears
But they clarified my latent fears
And a light in me dimmed for he had died
While on his evening motorcycle ride
Now the motorcyclists that I pass
I take a few moments to bless
Hoping they will be safe on their dangerous ride
While my thoughts of son David are churning inside
Thinking what he would be if he were alive
A man of the world, at forty-five…
Dr. Hoult may be contacted at HOULTight@aol.com
