Stillness in a Cemetery by Alan Anderson

 

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."---Matthew 19:14 NIV

This post is a dedication to my five grandbabies in heaven.

 

As I write this post, I do so after a return from vacation. My wife Terry and I spent three weeks visiting our daughter and her family in Windsor, Ontario. We enjoyed being with them again since they moved almost two years ago.

 

There is a lot of breathtaking scenery in the Windsor area and friendly people all over the place. In this post I highlight a special place we walked around during our vacation. I call this post “Stillness in a Cemetery,” to relate an experience with stillness while visiting the Heavenly Rest Cemetery in Windsor.

 

A Memorial to Stillness

 

As Terry and I walked through this multi-hectare resting place for loved ones, we both gasped as we approached a section of the cemetery. This was an area marked “In Loving Memory of the Unborn.” We walked among dozens of graves of babies and little ones under five years precious. We were both silent in this memorial to stillness.

 

A statue of a mother stands near the graves of the children as if she is watching over them. The statue is magnificent in its lifelikeness. The gravesites marked with names of children, children who I’m sure still matter to their parents and families. Several of the babies lived for only one day. I imagine their parents will remember them for the rest of their lives.

 

Stories out of Stillness

 

My grandfather heart stood at attention as I walked by the graves. I thought of the grandbabies Terry and I mourn. My writer heart wept, and I knew what I must do. I would take photographs of this “In Loving Memory of the Unborn” resting place. I will also include a few of the photographs in my book dedicated to the grief of grandparents. Terry understands my contemplative nature and awaits me as I wandered the cemetery on my own for a while.

 

Cemeteries are memorials to stories of loved ones. Here, young, loved ones who have passed into the place where God is. The stories of the children are told by those who still love them through visible gestures of love. These come as toy cars, angel figures, little dolls, a stuffy elephant, and heartfelt engravings on and around the grave markers.

 

Stillness Calls

 

Stillness washed over me and the words in my head and heart shed tears as I walked around the gravesites. This is what heart-words do before they bring a story or poem to life. This is also a reason I love stillness. Stillness is lifeblood to those of us of a contemplative nature. Stillness is where the still small voice of God speaks into the words we offer to the world.

 

For the most part, I need a place and attitude of stillness for my words to settle enough to make sense. Perhaps because of the season of life I am in, I never write where there are a lot of people talking or moving around. For me, a cemetery is such a place. The graves and grave markers provide a reminder of how much life matters and death has meaning. This is enough inspiration to bring forth words of beauty, comfort, and encouragement to one’s readers. These are words birthed from a place of stillness.

 

Dear friends, where do you find stillness? How familiar are you with the embrace of stillness?

 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home, where he finds inspiration for his writing. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. His website, https://scarredjoy.ca, is under construction.

Trust the Process and Know the Voice by Alan Anderson

 

The Project

I began a book project near and dear to my heart almost two years ago. A project dedicated to the theme of grandparent grief through the genre of poetry for the most part. My original title for the poetry was, “Plant Them A Garden,” but I saw the need to change this. Through my interaction with grandparents the title became apparent. I call the book idea, “Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry.”

 

This labour of love has taken me into dark places and places of joy as I write the poems. There are poems written to draw out the horror and life changing sadness grandparents experience. I try to balance the horror with glimpses of hope.

 

To date I have over one hundred poems in progress. There is a process I use as I bring my poetry together. The poems all depend on the stories of grandparents who grieve. Most of the stories I hear or read focus on the death of a grandchild and how this grief impacts the lives of grandparents.

 

 

The Process

Please allow me to explain an idea of my process for writing my poetry. This process is like how I make soup as the cooler months come upon us. I often make a broth from a cooked turkey or chicken carcass. Bring the water to a boil and remove the carcass bones. Fresh as possible vegetables, as well as leftover turkey or chicken meat are added to the broth. Salt is added to the mix to taste. I never serve the soup on the day I make it. The soup is cooked on a low heat overnight. The next day the soup is tested for taste. Once I am satisfied the ingredients are ready to party the soup is enjoyed.

 

The illustration of how to make soup serves well as I write poetry. Each poem is a result of hearing stories of grandparents who grieve. Once a story is explained I take time to process the person’s grief experience. The story is the stock of the poetry. I begin to write a poem to capture the essence of the grief story. The words, thoughts, emotions, of the stories, are the ingredients of the poems. In time I will know when the book, the soup, is ready to serve.

 

 

The Voice

The most common opinion I hear from grieving grandparents is, “we don’t have a voice.” This need for a voice is my motivation for this project.

 

Grandparent voices are often hushed by the grief experience of their adult children. This is often a result of the grandparent’s attempt to be, “strong,” for their children. They believe their grief comes second to the grief of everyone else. When grandparents speak about their grief, they use few words. Their few words are often poetic and find their way into hearts and ears ready to listen.

 

In a culture known to deny or evade death and grief we must be gentle as well as real with our words. Every poem sent into the world through, “Hidden Poetic Voices,” is meant to comfort and heal those who grieve.

 

Although I am two years into this project I am not frustrated, neither do I have any intention of laying it aside. I am not going to rush the process. My current part of the process takes time as I review and revise the poems. I love this part. Through this process my hope is the poems will speak with one, “voice.”

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled, Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry. Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.

Plant Them a Garden: A Work of Reflection and Poetry by Alan Anderson

 

 

This year I have the privilege of writing a series of articles for our FellowScript magazine. The articles highlight the theme of writing as healing. Since I began exploring this theme, it has cuddled its way into my heart.

 

 

My exploration of writing as healing brought me to a new love for poetry. Writing poems has been a tremendous source of comfort and healing as I recover from a personal health challenge this year. This caused me to slow life down.

 

 

2020 has taken my writing into a direction I have entertained for years but never entered. Through consultation with a few trusted writer friends, I am ready to unleash my writing beyond my previous boundaries. Poetry will be a highlight of the project I am working on now.

 

 

I like to read a wide selection of poetry as I develop this piece. This includes seventeenth-century poets like John Donne, to the intense style of Sylvia Plath, to more contemporary poets like Joshua Jordan. Poetry motivated by actual life inspires me regardless of its historical context.

 

 

My writing project for 2020/21 is a personal journey. I am dedicating it to my five grandchildren in heaven. I had been working on a fictional story to highlight the theme of grandparent grief. The more I thought of the theme, I sensed a pull toward poetry and prose and not a fictional story. I am calling this project, “Plant Them a Garden: a Work of Reflection and Poetry.”

 

 

Here are a few cursory points on what poetry means to me.

 

 

Poetry helps me listen

When I worked as a chaplain in healthcare I developed sharper listening skills than I had before. In spiritual care work the art of listening is essential. One cannot be an empathic presence without listening to people. Writing a poem helps me listen to the message within me.

 

 

 Poetry is intimate

The intimacy of poetry is what I love about it. As a poet I can get up close and personal with the words I want to convey. Poetry can be as honest and real as the poet wants it to be. Writing poetry helps slow life down and allows my thoughts to caress my mind. A slower pace helps me focus on the message of the poem.

 

 

Poetry helps me reflect on life.

I learn about myself through poetry. Poems help reveal how I interact and relate with the world. Ideas for poems run through my mind often. My poems focus on real life and touch on matters of the heart.

 

 

Poetry has purpose

There is intent and a reason behind every poem. 

Writing poetry eases the weights within me about life. My prayer is my poetry will find its way into hearts longing for peace and a pathway to hope.

 

 

Poetry has meaning

Writing poems cause me to think on a deep level about the words written. A hope I have for my poems is they will cause an emotional response in readers. I pray the messages of my poems are meaningful to my readers.

 

 

Grandparent grief is often overlooked and hidden. To see life through the eyes of grandparent grief is a unique perspective. I hope to give a voice to this hidden grief through, Plant Them A Garden: a Work of Reflection and Poetry.

 

 

Plant Them A Garden: a Work of Poetry, has been in my mind for years. I approach this project prepared to lay my soul bare with deep and personal thoughts on life. My prayer is it will be a source of comfort and healing for grandparents (and parents) who grieve the death of children they love.

 

 

https://scarredjoy.ca/