On giving ourselves away
by Elouise
What is a good death, Teacher?
And where might I look to find one?
Bad deaths abound
Alongside seemingly valiant deaths
And deaths of great sacrifice
But are they good deaths?
My new calendar hangs above me
Three young renaissance women
Observe life within and without
Through eyes that betray nothing
Wisps of pure virgin hair peek
From demur and ornate headpieces
Will they die good deaths, Teacher?
If so, why? When? And how?
And will they have led good lives?
Or will they muddle through
Whatever life requires of them?
Clean slates upon which dreams
Begin and end without a whimper
Good girls and good women
Who cared not for themselves
But for the needs of others
Now gone without a trace
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 January 2019
Hans Holbein sketch found at pinterest.com
Telling the Truth 
A beautiful, elegant elegy. To think of all those people – hudden doon – who have done so much good and are now forgotten by us….
But God sees and knows all the good.
Bless you, always. ((xxx))
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed. “Hudden doon?” That’s a new one for me.
Thanks for your beautiful comment. 🙏🏻
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can answer that!
My dad had a very good death; he went to bed one night at his usual time and forgot to wake up the next morning.
My mother knew he was dead; it was the first time (just 3 months short of their golden wedding anniversary), that he did not take her a cup of tea in bed;
The only times he had failed to give her a cuppa was when he was on AA duty during the war and when other war duties prevented it in all those years.
He probably had a smile on his face, it would have tickled him seeing her face, and also knowing that she’d be missing out on a telegram from the Queen congratulation them on their 50 years of fighting and squabbling 🙂
He was a socialist and was not in favour of the royal family, My mother was the complete opposite.
My dad would now be proud of me,A card carrying member of the Labour/labor/socialist party
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks for these memories, Brian. Your dad sounds like a faithful partner. I wonder what your mother’s childhood and death were like. Some women have poor mothering skills that are partially due to the way they were (or were not) treated as young women. You were fortunate to have a dad who understood and appreciated you.
LikeLike
My mothers father was a seaman in the Royal Navy, she was born 1909 so was 5 years old when he went to war in 1914 he served throughout the war and remained navy until he completed his 22 years service. Trouble was he was a Chief Petty Officer Stoker, and was a stoker when they had coal burning ships, Asbestos was used in great quantities in the boiler rooms; need I say more?
He developed mesothelioma and died 14th February 1935, 2 months before I was born. He was only 49 years of age at that time.
My mothered idolized her father throughout her life; unfortunately for me; she wanted me to be the reincarnation of him.
She failed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a sad situation for everyone. 😟
LikeLiked by 1 person
I suppose it was, My maternal grandparents were married young, grandfather was 24 years old when my mother was born, away at sea, then my aunt came along and they moved around quite a lot as you can imagine,
He got posted overseas for quite sometime to the China Station and the South Africa Station, they were the days of Empire, showing the flag,
Grandfather was a Mason and the head honcho of the Masons n South Africa when stationed there, even though he was only a CPO, taking precedence over the Admiral whatever.
My mother tried to push me into the masonry but I wouldn’t have a bar of it, or anything of the kind.
Always believed in myself never had doubts
.
‘Cocky little bugger ” my mother would call me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
If it weren’t impolite, I might say your mother got it right….😊
LikeLike
I cannot agree with you,
LikeLiked by 1 person