I Must Remember- poetry
By Marion Waterston, January 13, 2005
You are where you want to be
I must remember that
You do not feel the healing warmth of sunshine
Nor April's cleansing rain
No song of summer nightbirds
Can alter your tranquility
The tumbling leaves of autumn
Lie forgotten on the hill
Even winter's silver promises
Fail to woo you from your bed
You do not miss these things, my love
I miss them for you
And because they are for you
They are sweeter and more beautiful
So I will gather them like jewels and hold them close
And cover them with dreams
Until that special day when I will find you
And we shall delight in them together
Marion Waterston survived the loss of two members of her family to suicide- her husband, Richard, a psychiatrist, forty-seven years of age, and her son Mark, a college student, nineteen years of age. Following the death of her husband, she helped found a group for widowed people in Rockland County, New York and served as its first president for three years. After the death of her son, some sixteen years later, she joined a group specifically designed for those who had lost someone to suicide. Upon moving to Albuquerque in 1995, she joined "SOS" (Survivors of Suicide) and for the last few years has been president of that group. She states that she's been aware of certain differences in the way she grieved for her husband and then, her son. Some of these differences are expressed in her poetry.