Introduction to the Poetic Series "Grieving the Death of a Grown Child"

“HeartSpun Talk from the Crucible of Experience”©

From the life of Ken Matthies - Author, Poet, Real Life Storyteller

Every single death that occurs brings loss, grief and bereavement to someone who loved or cared for that individual, and its significance never can or should be discounted in its impact and meaning to those suffering and finding healing from its effects.

Yet the death of a child – grown or otherwise – carries a burden of grieving for a parent which exceeds all human boundaries of comprehension or understanding at the time of its happening, and involves enduring a grieving and healing path unique among the losses to be experienced by mankind.

In this series of articles I’ll be sharing stories of grieving the death of a grown child in poetic form, and allow you the readers to experience my own journey through grief to help you find healing from your own through the power and truth of their words.

It’s a prayer of my heart that you will be touched and encouraged in your own grieving by its ever growing message of hope.

Each poem in this series carries a brief explanation of where I was in my journey at the time it was written in order to give you a clear understanding of my progress through it.

All were written about my own beloved daughter Leila Gray (Brennan), a 26 year old helicopter pilot at the time of her death.

This first one was the poem written for her funeral day, which in its topic involves a gift of grace received mere days before that unutterably sad event. It relates to a ‘found feather’ given to us by our daughter’s loving spirit to help us as parents endure the day – and find hope in its message for the effects of an aftermath of loss which was certain to follow.
The Feather

We picked up a feather the other dayr
That lay on the floor at our feet;
And in it we saw the wings of flightr
Of Leila, our daughter Sweet.

A feather, you know, is an amazing thing;
It lifts each bird to the sky;
To soar the heavens and sail the windsr
That raise their wings on high.

Leila was like them, always fullr
Of the delight that flying would bring;
As she fixed her sights on the sky abover
And the song that chopper blades sing.

She was feisty, determined, and sure of her skill,
A professional fully aware;
Just like the feathers that fuel the flightr
Of one who is born to the air.

She had dreams, and goals, and lofty aimsr
To propel her into the sky;
And it is not our place to question that,
Or ever to wonder why.

The gift of flight is given to few,
The heavens are their domain;
So when one feather falls from the skyr
Our grief is hard to contain.

Yet Leila, our loved and precious oner
Would be the first to say:
“Lift up your hearts and look at me –
I’m just flying in a different way”

“I earned my wings upon this earth;
I so loved it, and did my best.
Now I’m flying in Heaven’s Halls,
For He said I had earned my rest.”

“And the Kingdom of Heaven – I’m here to say –
Is a place where everyone sings;
And God in His mercy and shining Lover
Has given me heavenly wings.”

“So go from this place with peace in your hearts;
My days on earth are fulfilled.
I sent the feather for my parents to findr
So you’d know I was flying still.”

…And the feather was gray…just like her maiden last name…

© M. Kenneth Matthies