Thank you for this perspective on Demeter! I found your blog so helpful in finding my own identity as a parent of small children, so I’m glad to see you tackling teenagers as it’s certainly a period of all kinds of letting go. You seemed to advocate for not holding on too tightly in the first place when children are small, so I look forward to reading more of your writing.
I regularly go back to this poem by Irish poet Eavan Boland on the same theme:
The Pomegranate
The only legend I have ever loved is
the story of a daughter lost in hell.
And found and rescued there.
Love and blackmail are the gist of it.
Ceres and Persephone the names.
And the best thing about the legend is
I can enter it anywhere. And have.
As a child in exile in
a city of fogs and strange consonants,
I read it first and at first I was
an exiled child in the crackling dusk of
the underworld, the stars blighted. Later
I walked out in a summer twilight
searching for my daughter at bed-time.
When she came running I was ready
to make any bargain to keep her.
I carried her back past whitebeams
and wasps and honey-scented buddleias.
But I was Ceres then and I knew
winter was in store for every leaf
on every tree on that road.
Was inescapable for each one we passed. And for me.
It is winter
and the stars are hidden.
I climb the stairs and stand where I can see
my child asleep beside her teen magazines,
her can of Coke, her plate of uncut fruit.
The pomegranate! How did I forget it?
She could have come home and been safe
and ended the story and all
our heart-broken searching but she reached
out a hand and plucked a pomegranate.
She put out her hand and pulled down
the French sound for apple and
the noise of stone and the proof
that even in the place of death,
at the heart of legend, in the midst
of rocks full of unshed tears
ready to be diamonds by the time
the story was told, a child can be
hungry. I could warn her. There is still a chance.
I couldn't even breathe I was crying so hard through the last 45 minutes of Everything, Everywhere. It's a miracle I still have operational tear ducts.
Yes to all of this. I loved Everything Everywhere All at Once but I am glad I didn't see it with either of my kids. It was just so much and left both me and Himself feeling rather introspective.
I've always been fortunate to have a poor imagination, which is good for not worrying TOO much about one's children. My daughter is now 15 so fingers crossed she finds a good balance between getting out in the world and staying safe.
We saw EEAAO together (with family) and loved it so much. Now that youngest has turned 13 I hope they'll watch it too. 13 year old is being very grumpy and distant lately, and its HARD!
Thank you for this perspective on Demeter! I found your blog so helpful in finding my own identity as a parent of small children, so I’m glad to see you tackling teenagers as it’s certainly a period of all kinds of letting go. You seemed to advocate for not holding on too tightly in the first place when children are small, so I look forward to reading more of your writing.
I regularly go back to this poem by Irish poet Eavan Boland on the same theme:
The Pomegranate
The only legend I have ever loved is
the story of a daughter lost in hell.
And found and rescued there.
Love and blackmail are the gist of it.
Ceres and Persephone the names.
And the best thing about the legend is
I can enter it anywhere. And have.
As a child in exile in
a city of fogs and strange consonants,
I read it first and at first I was
an exiled child in the crackling dusk of
the underworld, the stars blighted. Later
I walked out in a summer twilight
searching for my daughter at bed-time.
When she came running I was ready
to make any bargain to keep her.
I carried her back past whitebeams
and wasps and honey-scented buddleias.
But I was Ceres then and I knew
winter was in store for every leaf
on every tree on that road.
Was inescapable for each one we passed. And for me.
It is winter
and the stars are hidden.
I climb the stairs and stand where I can see
my child asleep beside her teen magazines,
her can of Coke, her plate of uncut fruit.
The pomegranate! How did I forget it?
She could have come home and been safe
and ended the story and all
our heart-broken searching but she reached
out a hand and plucked a pomegranate.
She put out her hand and pulled down
the French sound for apple and
the noise of stone and the proof
that even in the place of death,
at the heart of legend, in the midst
of rocks full of unshed tears
ready to be diamonds by the time
the story was told, a child can be
hungry. I could warn her. There is still a chance.
The rain is cold. The road is flint-coloured.
The suburb has cars and cable television.
The veiled stars are above ground.
It is another world. But what else
can a mother give her daughter but such
beautiful rifts in time?
If I defer the grief I will diminish the gift.
The legend will be hers as well as mine.
She will enter it. As I have.
She will wake up. She will hold
the papery flushed skin in her hand.
And to her lips. I will say nothing.
I couldn't even breathe I was crying so hard through the last 45 minutes of Everything, Everywhere. It's a miracle I still have operational tear ducts.
Yes to all of this. I loved Everything Everywhere All at Once but I am glad I didn't see it with either of my kids. It was just so much and left both me and Himself feeling rather introspective.
I've always been fortunate to have a poor imagination, which is good for not worrying TOO much about one's children. My daughter is now 15 so fingers crossed she finds a good balance between getting out in the world and staying safe.
We saw EEAAO together (with family) and loved it so much. Now that youngest has turned 13 I hope they'll watch it too. 13 year old is being very grumpy and distant lately, and its HARD!
Seventeen!!
Thank you for sharing the link to the interview with Tedra Osell. My thoughts on raw writing are still too raw (confused) to write.