This is so moving, Karin. Your poem carries the ache of distance, geographical, emotional, and temporal, with such tenderness. These years of witnessing our parents' vulnerability often come with guilt, regrets, and roles we never rehearsed. Your honesty touches me: the line “the past is done and cannot be changed” holds such quiet acceptance. And still, there is poetry, your way of remembering, processing, honouring. Thank you for sharing this. It speaks to something many of us carry, quietly.
Thank you for reading and commenting with such insight, Lillian, and for seeing all of those tangled emotions, and for allowing them to be what they are. 🧡
Thank you again for sharing this. That takes courage, and you offer it so generously. I hope you’ll keep writing, keep honouring what wants to be said. The tenderness in your words reaches further than you know. 🧡
This is so moving, Karin. Your poem carries the ache of distance, geographical, emotional, and temporal, with such tenderness. These years of witnessing our parents' vulnerability often come with guilt, regrets, and roles we never rehearsed. Your honesty touches me: the line “the past is done and cannot be changed” holds such quiet acceptance. And still, there is poetry, your way of remembering, processing, honouring. Thank you for sharing this. It speaks to something many of us carry, quietly.
Thank you for reading and commenting with such insight, Lillian, and for seeing all of those tangled emotions, and for allowing them to be what they are. 🧡
Thank you again for sharing this. That takes courage, and you offer it so generously. I hope you’ll keep writing, keep honouring what wants to be said. The tenderness in your words reaches further than you know. 🧡