The Seventeenth

I was the Seventeenth.

I mattered.

The last among a throng of children.

Maybe not needed as much as I was wanted, desired, hoped for, welcomed in, embraced, treasured and above all… loved.

In a world today where children are expensive and too many are not necessary, I would not have lived.  But I was born in a time when seventeen mattered.  My mother had her reasons for having so many children.   Maybe it wasn't always about me.  But I was treasured along with the rest.  I wasn't a mistake, I wasn't extra, I wasn't a burden.  

My life will be over one day.  What have I done in this world that made a difference?  

I loved one man well.  He mattered because I mattered.  

I look at the daughters that I brought into the world.   They matter because I mattered.  Each of them matters.  Each story matters.  The love they had and have to share matters. 

I look at the others I loved over many years.  They also matter because I mattered.

I am grateful, more than most, for my life.  I have a story not many have.  I have a label not many have.  

I matter.

I am the Seventeenth.  

© Ruby Neumann

Poet's Note: Written for my Aunt Wilma on September 28, 2021.  Today I got an email from her daughter reminding me that her days on this earth are numbered.  I have thought often over the years about her place in her family.  I am grateful for her.  My life is different today because of her.  I am changed because of her… so to me… Seventeen matters!

This poem is a look through her eyes.  

Wilma Dyck passed away December 21, 2021.  I will miss her.  

Twenty Years Since...

Twenty years since the it all went down

Twenty years since…

But I can't tell the story

Because I wasn't there

And since…

So many stories have been in the air

And I don't know what or how to believe this time

I don't know… 

All I can do is cry and weep 

Because… 

What I remember is crying and weeping

Pain, sorrow, loss, anger, heartache, confusion

How much of that must have been there

Then...

Twenty years ago 

When...

It all went down

© Ruby Neumann

Poet's Note: How do I pick a picture for a poem with an obvious subject but a not so obvious portrait of it.  I found this picture of the sunflowers and the roses and it spoke to me.  It spoke of the sadness that looms over today and every 9-11 since 2001.  I am far away from the places and far away from the people and far away from the stories.  But I want to sit in the sadness with everyone today who is sitting in sadness in one way or another.  I want to pause and remember that.  That matters to me.