No celebrity death, no crisis, no tragedy, no political issue (not even the 2016 election!) has gotten so many of the people in my social media feeds talking about the same thing the way that the death of Mary Oliver has my friends talking. My incredibly varied friends. Conservative Christians, Progressive Christians, Pagans, Polyamorous, Monogamous, Straight, Queer, Cis, Male, Female, Nonbinary, Black, White, Latina, Middle-aged, Millennial, Parents, Nonparents, Poets, Artists, Writers, Teachers, Small Business Leaders, Nurses, still-haven't-figured-out-what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life-ers, you get the point. They're all mourning for Mary Oliver.
Because Mary Oliver wrote about the human condition. She wrote about the universal experience of life as simultaneously sorrowful and wonderful. She could reach a vast and varied audience, because she was writing about things that are true for everyone.
Oh and what a good thing it was that she did reach such a vast audience. Some of my friends shared how Mary Oliver inspired them to prioritize what mattered to them. Some shared how Mary Oliver helped them grieve. Sam Sax wrote, “i read her to children who wanted to die / & in that moment they wanted to die / a little less.”
Poetry is powerful. Vulnerability is powerful. Saying how we are all human is powerful. But Mary Oliver didn't stop there. She also told us to keep living. Keep listening. Keep looking. Go outside & just watch.
My husband had cancer. When he recovered, my partner became seriously ill with something mysterious and debilitating and, so far, undiagnosable (and therefore untreatable). Sometimes he is ok enough to parent and enjoy food and laugh. Sometimes he is bedridden. We cannot predict what tomorrow will be. There's no pattern. He slept through August. He suffered through September. He struggled through October. Most of November was fine. Most of December was not fine. January has been despair-inducing.
This week, my partner spent four days in a row in bed, eating halves of bananas and small bowls of rice. At the end of the 4th day, I asked my partner, “What will we do?” He said, “I will get a diagnosis, and then I will get treatment.” I cried, “And then what? Who will get sick next?” My husband had cancer, and now my partner is incredibly ill, and maybe my lot in life is to watch my Loves suffer.
I sunk, hunched over my knees, forehead kissing the floor like a prayer. I sobbed into my hair. “I don't want this!” I meant life. I didn't want to keep watching, to keep being the helpless one at the bedside just holding a hand. It's too painful. I don't know how to keep living with all of this pain.
Then I thought of my 4-year-old son who was sick with a fever this past weekend. I thought of the sweet way he shivered, said, “I'm cold. I need to lie down,” and immediately fell asleep. I thought of how precious he was. Even if the absolute worst happened, even if my child were dying, I would want to be there to hold him.
“Fine!” I cried, “Fine! I'll take it.” I choose this life. With the pain, because of the pain, this life is precious. My husband's warm chest is precious. My partner's tender hands are precious. My son's small body is precious. I'll take it.
Mary Oliver says keep looking. Keep listening. Watch. It's so hard sometimes. It's so hard. But I hear you, Mary.
Maker of All Things, Even Healings
By Mary Oliver
All night
under the pines
the fox
moves through the darkness
with a mouthful of teeth
and a reputation for death
which it deserves.
In the spicy
villages of the mice
he is famous,
his nose
in the grass
is like an earthquake,
his feet
on the path
is a message so absolute
that the mouse, hearing it,
makes himself
as small as he can
as he sits silent
or, trembling, goes on
hunting among the grasses
for the ripe seeds.
Maker of All Things,
including appetite,
including stealth,
including the fear that makes
all of us, sometime or other,
flee for the sake
of our small and precious lives,
let me abide in your shadow -
let me hold on
to the edge of your robe
as you determine
what you must let be lost
and what will be saved.
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