After My Grandmother Died
by Christine Valters Paintner
my mother opened her dresser
drawer and found it full of pills,
she had reason for despair,
growing up in the great
depression, a schizophrenic
sister, giving up the teaching
she loved to marry.
Now her always pinched face
and distant eyes made sense,
her desire had become
a fossil, and I knew it was buried
inside me too. I became
an archaeologist of my life,
unearthing all that had hardened
generations ago, even if it meant
putting them now on display,
no longer hidden and dusty,
I polished those bones until
they gleamed like a smile,
until I could carve them hollow
and play their song.
Christine Valters Paintner is a Benedictine oblate living in Galway, Ireland, where she leads virtual retreats with her husband through their online monastery. She is the author of thirteen books of nonfiction on contemplative practice and the arts and two collections of poems, including The Wisdom of Wild Grace from Paraclete Press. You can find more of her writing and poetry at AbbeyoftheArts.com.
