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Judy Shepps Battle

Frozen Tears

 I never cried when dad died

‌   and relatives wept
‌   offering consolation
‌   assuming pain I didn’t feel
‌   clucking disapproval as I
‌‌   lit a cigarette in the funeral
‌   parlor saying I couldn’t smoke
‌   even though others were

‌   or when mom sobbed
‌   and tried to jump
‌   in his open grave
‌   I shut my eyes and
‌   pretended to be asleep
‌   as others pulled her
‌   from the abyss

I never cried when mom tried

‌   suicide, not the first or fifth
‌   or tenth time she picked up
‌   scalpel-like knife, took pills,
‌   or stopped eating

‌   not when she heard voices
‌   neighbor voices making fun
‌   and urging her to jump
‌   from fifth floor apartment
‌   and sounded like she was
‌   ready to leap

‌   not even when she went into
‌   a Princeton nursing home
‌   refusing to recognize me
‌   when I visited
‌   animated only for peers
‌   who said she is so
‌   sociable, so caring, and
‌   it is a shame her children
‌   never come to see her

I never cried when mom died

‌   just got angry at callous funeral
‌   director who charged more
‌   to store her dead body than if
‌   she was staying at Four Seasons

‌   and got furious at blue shag carpet
‌   when I tripped going to the
‌   fridge seeking chocolate chip
‌   cookies and milk.

 

Judy Shepps Battle has been writing essays and poems long before retiring from being a psychotherapist and sociology professor. She is a New Jersey resident, addictions specialist, consultant, and freelance writer.  

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