Not a warrior. Just a woman.
There is nothing 'just' about being a woman.
You wore purple slippers while incarcerated
In the place without colour.
You noticed the small failures, and sought to
Correct the large ones.
You housed two tortoises for thirty years,
And built another home for those of us
Wandering in the bewildering wilderness
Of lupus. Systemic lupus, that uncontrollable beast
That ropes us into the pen of our lives,
Trying to tame us into submission.
Not a warrior. Just a woman.
Who wore her height stylishly.
Who ate her cake ravenously.
Who lived her truths wisely.
But not without humour. Never
Without humour.
Are you here now? Like I asked you to be?
Or have you already flown far, free
To conquer new lands, unite with old friends,
Your mother, who left you too soon.
As you have left us, too soon.
Shaista Tayabali
April 16, 2018
linked with dverse poets
Shelagh Cheesman was the Chair of the Cambridgeshire Lupus UK group, the champion of many, and my dear friend. Along with our friend Colette Barrere, we formed part of an informal club called The Chloe Club, wearing our shared necklaces, lunching at the Tickell Arms, breaking down our encounters with the medics into humorous morsels.
I can't say words like 'I'll miss her' because they sound too banal. And anyway, she doesn't seem to have left me. Yet.
I recited the poem above at her funeral service on Monday 16th. It was a poem she commissioned herself two weeks before she died at Addenbrooke's. She unknowingly gave me the title of the poem with this quote: I don't like the word 'warrior'. But I like the word 'positivity'.
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| The not-so-formal photo: Shelagh (L), me, Coco (R), post Tickell Arms lunch |
