BIRTHDAY AUBADE
Morning blares begin here:
waiting page, bank of calls, what
wants the mind’s hard shapes.
Grief sneaks in
where the body remembers,
begins root in a quiet sun-
splashed dream.
Sit, she says.
Be with this curl of smoke,
bowl of petals,
rhodonite pink heart stone.
Let your fingers
find water,
tend earth
forage
for the smallest nourishment
that sings of love’s
true home.
And beneath
each moment,
the constant
hum:
My father would be 74
today
if he were here.
GRATITUDE CHALLENGE
At my father’s bedside,
the nurses deliver plates
of food — yams, rice, beans —
too heavy for the esophagus
that’s failed him, hands too frail
to keep a steady fork.
My aunt tells me “Turn away,”
when he asks her to wash
where he can’t reach.
We spoon him homemade soup,
brush his teeth.
Father Anthony visits, pulls me aside
to declare, “He doesn’t have long now.”
And later, another voice:
“Is that Daddy?” — a woman
leaving a nearby bed,
her lonely vigil.
“Yes,” I murmur, mouth
of star-plucked night, my fingers
pinions on his skin.
“I could tell,” she says.
“There’s a lot of love there.”
At my father’s bedside,
the tears cascade, the threshing
floor sings:
truth
never comes
too late.
ARRIVALS
Once, at the airport
I met my dad in a movie scene tableau,
charging through the arrivals door
with urgent eyes and a slippery joy
straining with each hurried step.
I saw him round the corner,
the stern lines
of his face slacken,
a pitched hope in his half-moon smile.
We careened into each other's weight,
dance of untethered feet
and tumbled walls
while a fellow traveler paused
trying not to gape,
wishing, he said, for someone
to greet him
like that.
Touching love and touching grief
In our most recent episode (and our last guest conversation of the season), my co-host Sarah Davis and I sat down with Grammy-nominated jazz vocalist, producer and arranger Nnenna Freelon, who also hosts her own podcast Great Grief.
I deeply appreciated Nnenna’s candor, wisdom and soulful storytelling as she shared her journey of grieving her beloved husband Phil. There was so much in this episode to sit with and reflect on. But today on my dad’s birthday, I’m thinking about her words, “To refuse the offering of your own tears is to be disrespectful of yourself,” and her invitation to embrace the small, private sweetnesses we continue to share with our loved ones after they’ve died — the miracles and the joys that show up just for us, reminders that they’re still here, still woven into our lives. Because today there were both tears and moments of pure and joyful connection, and I’m so grateful for both.
You can listen to the episode here or wherever you get your podcasts.
Free grief workshop with Peace Day Philly
Join me for an afternoon of grief tending as part of this year’s United Nations International Day of Peace programming sponsored by Peace Day Philly If you’ve been feeling burdened, exhausted, misunderstood, lonely or invalidated in your grief as a caregiver or service provider, this is your space to acknowledge what your heart is holding — and be met with compassion and care, while connecting with others in community.
Register for free here.
Your words always touch my heart, Naila. Thank you for the window into how much love you and your father share. ✈️