By Josanne Cassar

It is always difficult to console a person who has lost a loved one. When the deceased is a child, the difficulty increases a hundredfold.

What can one possibly say in the face of such an unspeakable loss which does not sound trite or like yet another platitude? In these cases I have often been struck dumb with the inability to adequately express my heartache for the grieving parents, so I end up sending a poem instead. It is a gesture which I adopted from a dear friend who had sent a poem to me on the death of my father, which I had found extremely comforting during those dark days.

Carmen Vella Gauci lost her 14-year-old son tragically two months ago. But instead of receiving poems, this grief-stricken mother has turned to writing the poetry herself. She told me that during these two months she has dived completely into writing poems, both in Maltese and English as well as prose.

“During this time we were advised to take therapy to help us grieve; it is here that I realized I did not know how to grieve, I was hyperventilating to avoid myself from crying, thinking I was stronger for my family, when in fact it is the opposite, we have to cry and let it all out. To cut a long short, I began to write these poems keeping other people in mind; people who might be grieving like me but didn’t take any therapy.”

The therapeutic value of pouring her heart out into poetry and verse has resulted in a book, Verses to my Son: In Search of Solace which is due to come out in September.

“I really wish this book to reach and bring solace to so many people and in the process help others. I owe this to my son, it is through him that all this is possible. I never wrote poems before and yet here I am. To date I’ve written 96 English poems, 15 in Maltese and 20 in free verse.”

The book is divided into different categories so that the reader can dip into poems depending on their mood. The works cover the rollercoaster of emotions experienced by all those who have endured a loss: from anger and despair to the feeling of acceptance and hope. But the anthology also includes light-hearted poems and those tinged with humour as well as religious poems and those which she describes as stream of conscious.

As Carmen Vella Gauci points out, “Grief isn’t just for someone who died, grief could be a mastectomy, a betrayal of a partner the passing away of a pet, so many people grieve for so many reasons.”

You can visit the FB page to keep updated about the book here https://www.facebook.com/versestomyson/.

Meanwhile here is a sample of Ms Vella Gauci’s work:

Silence

What is love if not the selfless act of giving oneself to another:

my son, you had my heart like no other.

I’m now left with a heartbeat but void of my soul.

Your silence aches me to my very bones.

They say our loved ones are around us when they depart

yet I feel nothing but hush,

a stillness that deafens my ears

one sided conversations accompanied by tears.

You have taken my very essence away,

my heart that beats keeps reminding me I’m alive

yet not a drop of blood would bleed from me

at this moment in time.

The new Angel

There is a naughty angel who just arrived last week,

apparently he loves to fly and can’t control his beat.

No earthly gadget could be more entertaining

since he’s got a new pair of wings:

silvery, white in colour and bigger than you think.

He keeps curling his feathers when instead they should be straight, 

SON WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU – don’t give Jesus problems, he has enough on his plate!

He keeps flying in circles instead of going right.

Oh good Lord forgive him, best to keep him close by.

Perhaps he could stand by the gate and usher people inside?

Or maybe give him the task of writing names – that might fix him right.

I’ve heard St Peter is rather old and has to carry keys, perhaps my son could help him out … it’s just a thought, maybe?

He could also join the apostles to become number 13 … I don’t know I’m just thinking aloud. It’s a possibility …

Please whatever you do keep him away from Cupid, 

that angel is trouble abound,

 my son needs a little guidance – he’s the newest angel around.

__________________

Stream of conscious

Whisper in my ear you are ok

so I may rest my weary heart.

Show me you are happy

so my soul can breathe again.

Promise me you will wait for me, 

wherever you are …

that I can hold onto that promise.