What Might Make It Better
What Might Make It Better
I want to call you and tell you
that I actually am
losing my vision–so I’ve just
been told–
I want to hear
how worried that makes you,
which would somehow allow me to say, dismissively,
“don’t worry,”
that all
will be okay.
Though actually I wouldn’t tell you
about my troubled vision
if you were still alive,
not wanting to worry you.
Oh, how I miss not telling you
what I would not.
***************************
Poem for Fireblossom’s (Shay’s) prompt on Real Toads.. Drawing mine. Charcoal on paper, all rights reserved.
And, to change the sad subject, I am also happy to announce that I have published a new children’s novel, called Doggone! This is a sequel to Dogspell and also involves Seemore, the highly talented dog, and his sidekick, Sally; illustrated by yours truly. Available on Amazon but am happy to send free copies to anyone who wishes to review!
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Tags: Doggone, grief poem, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, loss of mother poem, manicddaily, what I wouldn't tell you poem, what we don't talk about when we love poem
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ManicDDaily 
September 21, 2017 at 8:22 pm
In this poem I got a sense of regression. Well done.
September 21, 2017 at 9:11 pm
Karin, congratulations on Doggone! How wonderful! I am certainly hoping the loss of vision in this poem is not your own. They do wonderful things with surgery these days, so if this is the case, take heart and ask a specialist what can be done. As an artist and writer, you need your eyes. I like the lines about missing not telling one’s mother because you wouldn’t want to worry her.
September 22, 2017 at 6:19 am
First, I hope this is not a true story in the poem. Second, *raises hand, squirms, bounces, call on me me me me me me* I loved Dogspell and would love to read this one and review it, if you like.
September 22, 2017 at 6:43 am
Shay, if you send your address to me at kamerchris@gmail.com, I will happily send you one. Of course, I would be honored by a review, but you would not need to feel obligated. I’d just be happy to give you one.
Unfortunately, I do have macular degeneration showing in one eye, and my vision has just gotten somewhat worse in both than it had been, but probably not related to that. (I hope!) I did get some new glasses that correct for the new issues and they are much much better. k .
September 22, 2017 at 9:23 am
I am sorry to hear of your macular degeneration. I have a tiny tiny feel for it lately with my own eye “problems”…but mine is temporary.
September 22, 2017 at 9:34 am
Congratulations on your book, Karin!❤️ I really hope your poem is not based upon true circumstances…. Powerfully written.
September 22, 2017 at 11:29 am
This is another of your poems that sucks the breath out of me.. The loss you describe is one we must all have felt but to put it into words…
September 22, 2017 at 5:12 pm
Thanks, Kerry. I have been very slow in visiting as very busy trying to make up work, but will catch up! Thanks as always for your kindness. k.
September 22, 2017 at 2:34 pm
This poem defines intimacy so breathtaking well.
September 22, 2017 at 2:56 pm
Wow – congrats on the book!
Excellent poem, as well. I have awful visual acuity and was in glasses before I was out of diapers, lo – these many years ago.
Now I have cataracts forming.
But somehow, we will see our way through it all.
Namaste,
JzB
September 22, 2017 at 3:29 pm
The layers in this is felt deeply… I connected with it immediately. My father who would have been 100 a week ago got retinal detachment… and no surgery worked back then. This spring I had it, and surgery has evolved so my vision could be saved (I hope)… but I imagined being able to tell him too
September 22, 2017 at 4:01 pm
Oh, so scary to have vision issues. I know what you mean about wishing someone was still here so you could wish to tell them but wouldn’t. Congratulations on your book!!
September 22, 2017 at 4:40 pm
“Oh, how I miss not telling you
what I would not.” Oh, absolutely wonderful last lines. (I am sorry about your vision problems.)
September 22, 2017 at 7:16 pm
This made me think of all the things I would not tell my mother if she were still here.
Congratulations on the book!
September 22, 2017 at 11:24 pm
Congratulations on the new book publication!
I liked this, K. It felt as if we have entered the wheel and are now going in circles. Will we spin out? Only the muse knows. (Do you remember Pres. Johnson’s wheel of poverty?)
BTW, very likely Macular Degeneration is in my near future. I am sorry for yours. All the males in my line for whom I know their history have developed it. Dad went blind in his late 80’s. He called me and said he had hung up his keys and had a room reserved at the nursing home.
Arlene and I were there the next weekend and found him a lovely assisted living home (he would not move to Texas and live with us). He lived to be 97, Mom had died at age 88–he was 89 then, but he thought this was a part of always being cheated by life. He loved to read, the first thing he did in the morning after listening to J. Vernon McGee on his radio was to work the crossword puzzle. I am thinking that I can handle mine. (Right now I have no one who I couldn’t tell to tell.)
My relationship with him was a love hate type, I could never and will not forgive him for my childhood treatment. He acted as if these abusive things never happened.
..
September 23, 2017 at 4:57 am
Self-deception is a willed blindness, isn’t it? And circular in its handling of the straight rods of truth. We all carry these white lies, these half-truths, this cascading network of dissemblings. Measles of the mind, these ellipticals. You did it deft and true. We sure need this stuff as we now go where our loved ones went.
September 25, 2017 at 1:43 pm
I’m sorry that you’ve macular degeneration, Karin. Your “sight” is deeper than your eyes, as proved by this perceptive poem. Congrats on the new book! (My little grands like “1 Mississippi”.)
September 27, 2017 at 10:01 am
I hope you’re now taking steps to slow progression. And learning how to use the crutches. Age sucks. Never knowing what part will go haywire next.
But. The book is hard work rewarded. Congratulations!