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« Mom, Michelangelo and Me [by Moira Egan] | Main | The Mystery of Mom by Ken Tucker »

May 12, 2013


Oh, lovely - both the poem and your mom.

Oh, I too wish for a visit. Nothing all these years and now I too am older than my mom when she died. Sigh. Love the older pic of her as a young woman!

Wonderful, Terence. I remember your mentioning her and her early death when we worked together. She was a handsome, lovely woman and it's great to see her! My mother died when I was five. She was 39. So, I never really knew her, and have always wondered.

Thanks, Melinda. These kinds of losses shape us for life, for better or worse.

Your mother was a powerful woman with her own special charisma. Her death, which still makes me angry, was a loss to all of us, but to you and Miles, of course, most of all.

Tears in my eyes Terence. I heard the poem from you shortly after it was written and am so happy the rest of the world now gets to know it too. It's brilliantly honest and vice versa, as you are, and I know your mother was. I wish I could have known her for just a moment, and though my mother stuck around til I was 23 so I'm more fortunate than you or Cait and Miles, I have felt the same way you do and did all my life as well, thank you for articulating that so perfectly.

You said it for me, Michael. "Brilliantly honest" and honestly brilliant. Just honesty is something to aspire to; brilliance is a bonus. A generous man, our Terence, admirable in his devotion to his earthy muse, unique and inimitable in his voice, and an extraordinary poet of the ordinary. And his mother was a beautiful woman.

Wow. That adds a lot of dimension, detail, and perspective to a story that's still playing itself out in us. Thanks for sharing this. I found it deeply meaningful and enriching.

Oh how lovely and wonderful - it adds a few more pieces to the pictures of your Mom that I had puzzled together from the book "The Seeing Eye Boy"

I just saw this, coincidentally on the anniversary of my own mother's death. Thank you, Terence. Beautiful.

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I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman

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