Quote of The Day

Monday, February 02, 2009

The Poet and the Crush


During a jaunt around blog land

Through a process of google searches

Almost forty years later

A personal mystery unfolds



Nineteen seventy

March 30th

Late at night

I lay on the floor

In front of the oven

After three attempts

At baking

a birthday cake

For the sixteenth birthday

Of my crush

A long haired shy boy

Who bit his nails

To the quick

Smoked too many cigarettes

Had family problems

And always seemed sad



Who knows what the allure was

A need to rescue the underdog

My jovial personality

Seemed to crave the sullen opposite

The power behind the quiet

A couple of months later

Alan started dating a girl

In his own grade

Married her three years later

My jealous angst had dissipated

As I stood with my partner

Watching their honking limo

Drive up Lonsdale

During the day of their nuptials

I was married later that same year

Coincidentally my husband

Worked with him for a few years

He went on to have three children

Moved further up the mountain

Near my brother in law


Sixteen years passed

It was nineteen eighty nine

I had a rental house

Three cities from where he lived

It came time to sell

We got an offer on the place

The realtor pronounced the name

Of the prospective buyer wrong

I immediately corrected her

It was my crush from long ago

He wanted to buy my two bedroom house

With a finished basement

For his family of five

It was the only clean place they could find

Within their price range

I had moved up

He bought my house

He looked exactly the same

Only more disheveled and aged

I was grateful I never married him

Linda his wife was so sweet

I liked her immediately

They were meant for each other



Yesterday during my blog treks

I happened upon the annual Canadian poet’s award

I recognized it as his mother’s name

I read further

Recalling that fateful time

Two years after we were married

When she was sadly found murdered

Newspapers alluded to a random killer

I don’t recall hearing much after that

Seems her time here inspired books

About her, about her poetry, about her custody battle for Alan

Her sad demise by the hands of a teacher

her second husband bludgeoned her with a hammer

then dumped her in a creek miles away

Surprise surprise……did you doubt it?

Why are people always shocked when it’s the husband?

I was then........I'm not now!


You can read more about Pat here, here and here!

11 comments:

Lucy said...

oh no, how awful!
I can tell this really affected u giggles, I can feel your sadness for the whole entire situation in between your beautifully written lines.
As talented as she was, her talent wasn't strong in choosing a husband.
poor woman.

Mary Timme said...

I skimmed a book from the library saying the same thing you just said, only not with as much entertainment. I think we all are standing around in life pretty much naked for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. So, yeah, I always say, it was the wife, mother, husband, father and am almost always right. I'm not shocked anymore. Oh, dear I think that is being a cynic.

Mary Timme said...

I skimmed a book from the library saying the same thing you just said, only not with as much entertainment. I think we all are standing around in life pretty much naked for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. So, yeah, I always say, it was the wife, mother, husband, father and am almost always right. I'm not shocked anymore. Oh, dear I think that is being a cynic.

DMG said...

What a hauntingly tragic story. She's going to be on my mind for some time. I'd like to research now and read some of her poetry. You know, even as an English major in college, I was never fond of poetry. But now, that I'm in my second year of teaching poetry to high school students, I suddenly love it. All I can say is: How short-sighted I have been. I've been missing a lot!

gma said...

He may not have made a good husband...but she might've been an interesting Mother in law.

Tammy Brierly said...

How tragic Sherrie! I watch too much TV because it's usually the husband. HUG

Patois42 said...

Makes me very, very sad. And makes me remember those I know who have met that fate.

Tumblewords: said...

What a story this is! I followed and read all the links you posted and feel such compassion for the family and the poet. She had quite a style. Interesting that you would find all this - thanks for sharing...

Queen-Size funny bone said...

She was taken but not forgotten. I wonder what she would write today?

paisley said...

very interesting post,, as i had not heard of pat lowther previously.. i read your post and the attached articles and i am spurred on to read some of her poetry,,, gonna search for some right now....

Forgetfulone said...

Wow. What an interesting poem. I love the way you described your post, and how life is full of things we like to call coincidences. Are they really? And the woman who was murdered? How awful!

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