G-L-O-R-I-A

Posted on August 13, 2012 by Katie

I don’t remember what the assignment was here, but I wrote this poem about my mother. I used to love sitting with my family, singing along as my parents played guitar. When we got older, my brother would play guitar too, and it was a regular family jam. I wish we still had them now! Mom and Dad don’t play nearly as much as they used to, and I think my brother plays so much for his job, that he probably isn’t interested in a family jam anymore!

G-L-O-R-I-A

She grips the neck
Stares into space
Takes a deep breath
And places her long, slim fingers upon the frets.
She looks comfortable here.
Young.
In control.
Her fingers feel their way around the strings
And for once,
She plays.

A fast tune it may be,
But the sound of her dripping heart is slow.
Her voice may be mild,
But her spirit screams
Yes! I’m free!”

I sit in amazement and watch her.
She’s so beautiful.
Young.
Life is all but easy for this country girl,
But she is set free by her music.
Singing at the top of her lungs now,
Her soul is freed
All about the carpet for all to see.

Life is all but easy for her.
She cries
Daily.
She loves
Unconditionally.
And hard moment after unbearable moment
Leads up to this.
The Release.

I sit and watch until I can take it no longer –
Until I hear a voice from inside screaming
“Let me out!”
And so I sing.

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
September 1999

Stevie Ray and Double Trouble

Posted on August 12, 2012 by Katie

The writing assignment here was to write a poem that personified an animal. At the time I wrote this, Steve Ray was our family cat. He was just the best ever. Stevie Ray loved popcorn and lettuce. He loved to perch on the small ledge between the sink and the edge of the counter. He loved to snuggle, and his purr was long and loud. He loved being rubbed just in front of his ears – so much so that he had very little fur there! We had rubbed him bald! He would “talk” to you when you came home from work or school. Almost as if he were saying, “Hey! How was your day?” Stevie Ray was all gray, except for a small white spot on his chest. He came to our family as a kitten right around my 14th birthday, and died on Christmas day in 2001. We almost lost him just a few months after he joined our family. Somehow he had eaten an entire ham and cheese Hot Pocket, and ended up barfing it all up on my pillow late one night. Dad cleaned it up for me (thanks Dad!) and put Stevie in the garage in case he puked more. We woke up the next morning, and Stevie Ray had somehow gotten his head stuck in the spokes of a bicycle. The spokes were pinching his neck, and had cut off circulation to his brain. He was so close to dead. We BEGGED Mom and Dad to do something, so we rushed him to the pet emergency room. I’m certain they had to pay about a million dollars to save this cat’s life, but save it they did. For a few weeks after he came home, he was a little spacey – staring off into nothing, walking into walls, etc. After a while he was right back to normal though, and I think he was even more loving with us after that. It’s like he knew that we had rescued him from death, and snuggled and purred even more as a thank you.

So here is the poem I wrote from Stevie Ray’s point of view…

STEVIE RAY AND DOUBLE TROUBLE

She came in flustered again today.
Probably another hard day on the job.
Probably another long day of lectures and notes.
She comes home to the messes that await her from yesterday,
And the day before,
And all she wants is to sit and forget.

Forget the day.
Forget the work.
Forget her troubles.
Forget him.
Forget that she’s lonely.
Forget that she’s afraid.
Forget that she’s wrong.

She sits and stares at the trivia show
With the day running through her mind
In fast forward
Only stopping on the bad parts,
And going too fast through the good.
I sense her pain.
We are close.
I sense her pain.
I too want to forget.

Forget the day.
Forget the work.
Forget my troubles.
Forget the spider hiding on the wall behind her favorite picture.
Forget the scratches I made on the wall.
Forget that I pooped on the bathroom rug.

Two beings
Wanting to forget the world.
So I curl up in her lap,
Purr,
And we forget the day together.

Katie Swisher (née Kermeen)
September 14, 1999

Three Years

Posted on August 11, 2012 by Katie

Today marks the third anniversary of the day we lost our first baby. Squooshy was a surprise of hope for us – we had almost given up on ever getting pregnant! The day I found out I was pregnant is still one of my favorite days, even though it is now tainted with the knowledge of how it all ended. I thought I was having serious heart problems or something. I was so tired all the time. I was sick at my stomach. I could feel my heart racing at times. On July 1st, called Dr. Wilk on my way to work to make an appointment.

That afternoon he made me pee in a cup, even though I told him “I never pass these tests.” I can still hear him coming back into the room and saying, “How do you feel about being a mother?” I was shocked. SHOCKED! After years of trying (temperatures, calendars, drugs, etc.), I was still surprised to find out that I was pregnant. God is so funny sometimes! I sobbed in his office, and he and his nurse hugged me over and over again. I remember the moments when I told my parents, my siblings, my friends, my coworkers. It was a great time.

I was almost 11 weeks along in my pregnancy when I started bleeding. I called my OB, and she suggested I come to the hospital. We made it to the hospital in Crawfordsville just in time. A few moments after we arrived, I was on the table in serious pain, and a doctor was gently telling me what I already knew. I’ll never forget the nurse who held my hand and offered comfort. I’ll never forget the hot, wet tears rolling down Matt’s face onto my hospital gown. I’ll never forget the humility of having Matt helping me clean up the mess that was left after the death of our baby. I’ll never forget the looks on the faces of my mom and sister as they entered the room just an hour later. I’ll never forget sleeping in the maternity ward that night, with Matt laying in a recliner chair right next to me. We held on to each other every moment of that night. I woke up regularly throughout the night, feeling as though I was in the middle of a bad dream. I’ll never forget the peace I felt the entire time we were at the hospital though. There was no question that God was there with us.

It has been a difficult three years since that day. Three more miscarriages have followed – each one painful and difficult, but none have been quite as devastating as the first. Perhaps we just have become desensitized to it a little. We remain hopeful for a family – no matter how it may come. In the meantime we enjoy being an aunt and uncle to 5 amazing nieces and nephews. They bring such joy to our lives.

I just wanted to take a moment to remember our first little baby. Squooshy, we dream of you often, and we know that someday we will get to hold you in our arms…