by Paul Hooker
Norma Porter Hooker 12 April 1925 - 5 August 2021 Requiescat in pace Sometimes death is a thief who in dark of night gains entry through the soul’s unlocked windows and steals that most precious of all treasure— breath. Or else a pickpocket in a surging crowd who with deftest sleight of hand snatches a wallet full of hope and expectation, dissolves into the teeming throng, and disappears. Sometimes death is an enemy whose ruthless forces, blades in sunlight glinting, banners waving to declare the fight, deny the living even one more day, one hour, of life. Or else a judge, benched in darkling robes and somber, grim-faced and dispassionate, pronouncing sentence upon one standing in the well, innocent or guilty, who comes to die. But not today. Today death is a faithful, trusted servant late on his quotidian rounds, and hastening to match his quota of souls who with overdue accounts must wait, arms akimbo, foot tapping, for promised rest. Better still, today death is a friend, long lost and long loved if also long delayed, who arriving, taps quiet at the door to make us turn and, with warming smiles, greet her as she enters, just in time.
Beautiful poem. I’m so sorry for your loss.
So perfectly said. We love her … and you and Suzanne. Peace.
Paul, a wonderful, heartfelt poem—so perfect for your mother’s passing.
And you worked in the word “quotidian,” which made me smile with gratitude!
Are you back or are you still in Jacksonville?
Theodore J. Wardlaw
I just read this to Kay, and, surely thinking of her Dad’s death (finally), she said, “ That’s beautiful!”
Thanks again, Paul.
Theodore J. Wardlaw
Beautiful…May your Mom enjoy not only “promised rest” but the “warming smiles” of the One who has loved and sustained her throughout her life.
Wow, beautiful, Paul. This speaks to the relief and grace of a good death after a long, fruitful life. I’ve been thinking about you there in Florida and wondering how things are going for you and your sister. I know there are so many details, so much to take care of—and I’m grateful that your sister is there to help shoulder the load.
I had a note from Pat in which she detailed her own close relationship with your folks—and explained that the two of you had lived with them for a couple of years. What a blessing for her to have had that kind of relationship with your parents.
You will hear from me again, but I wanted to let you know that I was touched by this poem.