February has been an especially cruel month to this community.

First, was the awful tragedy Marwil endured.
Second was the cruel loss of Wordgirl’s brother-in-law.
And finally, Mo. Please click here and here for the latest.

Thank you, all of you, for your kind words for Mo. I keep going over and over these words that Amy shared, over on Rachel’s blog:

I don’t know why, but I’m a little shocked at how flattened I am by this news – I’ve mostly lurked at Mo’s blog for a long time, and she’s commented on mine once or twice at most, I think. Not a lot of interaction, really, but I am totally failing at my no-crying-at-work rule. Just goes to show how powerful the community is and how meaningful sharing these ALI experiences is – all of our hearts are breaking for her, I know….so much love to her, Schmerson, and Schmaby.

Esperanza wrote a post that bravely questioned why we are so, well, flattened by these awful tragedies.

The truth is, we are all friends. Real friends, not just “Internet friends.” Even though in most cases we have never met face-to-face, it’s like we are in the same sorority or dorm floor in college. Separated from friends and families, we share our histories (about ALI, instead of the douchey guys my friends and I used to obsess over at University), we listen to each other’s stories, we laugh. And when one of us is hurt, we cry.

And today we are thinking of our friend Mo, and our hearts are broken. I want to dedicate this poem to the tremendous Mommy Odyssey, her gorgeous husband and their beautiful baby boy. We love you, we ache for you, we are so angry that you have to endure this and we send all of our strength and kindness and all the best parts of ourself to you. We know it’s not enough, dammit, not even anywhere near enough.

Funeral Blues, WH Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.



Filed under Sad

29 responses to “Flattened

  1. So absolutely beautiful, and so right. Thank you for this, J. Just thank you.

  2. Very beautiful poem & so appropriate. It’s hard for me to express how I feel b/c being away from this community for a while, I don’t know Mo. Yet I absolutely feel devastated for what she’s going through and so wish I could do something to make it better, reverse history, help alleviate a tiny bit of her pain. Even though I don’t know her, I do feel connected through being a member of the ALI family. When one of us hurts, we all hurt.

  3. Rachel @ Eggs In A Row

    It’s true. I think that I never really believed that you all could become a part of my life the way you have…and it is hard to think that something this terrible could happen to someone you love.

    This was a gorgeous post, thank you. xoxo

  4. It’s so incredibly unfair that Mo should have to go through this. I was holding it together until the poem and now I’m a tearful mess again.

  5. This is a perfect poem. Nicely done.

  6. We are a family, tear. This is a beautiful post and poem… thanks.

  7. Simply a perfect post. Thank you.

  8. i don’t really “know” Mo very well, but whenever I hear of anyone in this situation, I just feel so sad. And angry. It’s just so friggin’ unfair that anyone ever has to go through this (let alone multiple times).

  9. Yes. This post and poem are perfect. I had gotten to know Mo through her blog only recently and yet this news knocked me completely off my axis. I think that on a larger level it just mocks our desire to cling to the notion that surely there must be some justice in the world. On a personal level, I am struggling particularly because I’ve been almost exactly where she is right now….and because I am just a few weeks ahead of her now, reminded sternly that there really is no solid ground. But, of course, this is all about Mo who has no choice but to endure this while the rest of us stand impotent. Dark days, indeed.

  10. This post is making me cry… for like the billionth time today.

  11. crying, with everyone else. And still sending love to Mo and her husband and angel. Thanks for writing this.

  12. Thank you for this.

    I am holding all of these women and their families close in my thoughts and prayers. Though I don’t know any of them well, I am aware of all of them through ICLW and/or other ALI Community connections over the years. It is painful to witness such losses even when we don’t know those affected well.

    I love that WH Auden poem, especially when it was read in the movie Four Weddings and a funeral. So moving then and still powerful now.

    I find peace and comfort in knowing how this ALI Community surrounded me with love and care almost four years ago when we lost our baby girl Molly and know that Marwil, Mo and Wordgirl will also feel that awesome compassion in the hours, days, months and years to come as they learn to live without their children and brother-in-law. xoxo

  13. Port of Indecision

    I’m in absolute shock at what happened to Mo, and flattened is the exact word to describe it. I think you’re right – they do become “real” friendships, not just “internet friendships.” And when something so tragic happens to someone you’ve come to truly care about, it’s a whole different ball game to it happening to some hypothetical person.

  14. Esperanza

    Flattened is exactly how I feel. Flattened. Thank you for acknowledging how we all feel and helping me to feel less strange for feeling that way.

  15. Thank you for her post, expressing it perfectly, and the wonderful poem. I’m sitting here crying for Mo and her lost little baby boy. This is so unfair.

  16. Thank you. Some people have a gift for being able to say the right thing and to provide the comfort we all need. You are one of those people.

  17. Gil

    Shedding tears along with the rest of the blogosphere as this month wreaks absolute havoc on so many of our loved ones. You’re right; while we haven’t met, we feel each other’s pain. When one hurts, we all cry and comfort. This poem is perfect to express our sadness at Mo’s awful circumstances. My heart breaks for her and Shmerson.
    By the way: Good. I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one failing at the self-inflicted policy about “no crying at work.” Excuse me. I have something in my eye…

  18. Pingback: A Simple Rose That Means So Much | Writing for Life

  19. Pingback: What unites us | Yolk: A blog about eggs and sperm

  20. Gail K

    I just saw this on Mo’s site and I am crying. Words can’t express how sad this is, especially seeing Mo’s new blog tagline. http://mommyodyssey.wordpress.com/2012/02/22/nadav/

  21. I’m balling my eyes out…

  22. That poem is so beautiful. Thank you for writing this.

  23. So sad what has happened. Love that poem…haven’t seen it in a while…

  24. i’m in tears.
    thank you.

  25. Pingback: Purple Bear's Chair | Survive and Thrive

  26. Pingback: What Nadav Taught Me: Ask and You Shall Recieve « Mommy Odyssey

  27. Crying again about this.

  28. Pingback: Purple Bear's Chair | One Step At a Time

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s