From Jerri Masten Hansen
To all the dear people who have responded back to me over all these months through Dad’s illness and death - It was a great comfort to me to know that Dad touched so many people in such a deep and profound way, as all of you have touched me so deeply.
It was an honor and a great privilege to care for my parents over these last few years and to help Dad with the business and be here so he could pass at home. Mom is doing okay, but she now needs more help with day-to-day things, and I, along with my sisters, will do our best for her.
I am including the latest poem I’ve written, as my grieving has really just begun I miss my father terribly and there now needs to be time for me to write and heal and recover along with watching over Mom. I just wanted again to send my love and gratitude to all of you for being
the reason dad got up every day. He so needed people to love and to be loved by the people, we have Dads ashes in several places this is about one it’s called:
Perfect
By Jerraldine Hildreth Masten Hansen, July 23, 2008
That's me, Jerri, Ric's oldest daughter
It’s just a quiet Wednesday
The 23rd of July
I hit the speed limit on Friday
A new year for me but without you
First the dog died our Sheelah
And then you Dad
Lightning struck
And the fires came
Blackened our landscape
Your funeral pier
It filled my lungs
Dark brown
I was afraid
I kept busy
I piled your paintings in the car
Stacked between my favorite rugs
Irreplaceable
I carried your ashes
In my purse for weeks
Waiting for today
To put order back
A quiet Wednesday
The smoke is clearing
Today I feel my grief
I empty the car
And hang your paintings
One by one
My memories
The last one hung is my beginning
Bixby beach the year I was born
I am here... Today
Like you asked me Dad
To watch your bones
Join in the dance of surf and sand
I think of Joe and Norm
I keep looking up
To the sky
To the bridge
I look ahead
And behind
The long path
I see you
Carrying me piggyback
Through this enchanted forest
You my sturdy steed
I your princess
Today our last walk together
I carry you on my back
Your first born
I have not walked here
In all these years
You have been ill
The path is overgrown
I feel the sting
Of so many nettles
So much is changed
But I still know my way
Arms overhead
I press forward
With one last push
I am through
Out in the light
The beach is PERFECT
Someone has left
A totem of stacked stones
An island in the middle of the stream
A place to leave you in honor
I sit and write
In your favorite sweater and hat
Your bell
Your original hippy bell
Sounds my way
And...here you are
In sand castles
And 4th of July
Campouts
And trout fishing
The smell of sea and bacon
Turpentine and linseed oil
The canvases of my life
The happiest times
I can remember
I am growing old now
And I don't know what to do
All these days ahead
Without you
I AM GRIEVING
I rub your ash across my feet
And wade into the river
Atop a large flat rock
Are seven stacked stones
I spread you like mortar
Between them
I beat my chest and scream and wail
My tears fill my hands
Then to the ocean’s edge it spills
You seemed so white
And then
Were swallowed up
And disappeared
Into kelp and foam
I've held some of you back
To leave on the road
And the trail home
Bread crumbs
My fingers are dusted with white powder
I carry you under my nails
And between my toes
The sea seemed so loud when I arrived
Now it whispers
And I am ok
And you are ok
And it’s time to go home..
I love you all be well heal and live Jerri
To all the dear people who have responded back to me over all these months through Dad’s illness and death - It was a great comfort to me to know that Dad touched so many people in such a deep and profound way, as all of you have touched me so deeply.
It was an honor and a great privilege to care for my parents over these last few years and to help Dad with the business and be here so he could pass at home. Mom is doing okay, but she now needs more help with day-to-day things, and I, along with my sisters, will do our best for her.
I am including the latest poem I’ve written, as my grieving has really just begun I miss my father terribly and there now needs to be time for me to write and heal and recover along with watching over Mom. I just wanted again to send my love and gratitude to all of you for being
the reason dad got up every day. He so needed people to love and to be loved by the people, we have Dads ashes in several places this is about one it’s called:
Perfect
By Jerraldine Hildreth Masten Hansen, July 23, 2008
That's me, Jerri, Ric's oldest daughter
It’s just a quiet Wednesday
The 23rd of July
I hit the speed limit on Friday
A new year for me but without you
First the dog died our Sheelah
And then you Dad
Lightning struck
And the fires came
Blackened our landscape
Your funeral pier
It filled my lungs
Dark brown
I was afraid
I kept busy
I piled your paintings in the car
Stacked between my favorite rugs
Irreplaceable
I carried your ashes
In my purse for weeks
Waiting for today
To put order back
A quiet Wednesday
The smoke is clearing
Today I feel my grief
I empty the car
And hang your paintings
One by one
My memories
The last one hung is my beginning
Bixby beach the year I was born
I am here... Today
Like you asked me Dad
To watch your bones
Join in the dance of surf and sand
I think of Joe and Norm
I keep looking up
To the sky
To the bridge
I look ahead
And behind
The long path
I see you
Carrying me piggyback
Through this enchanted forest
You my sturdy steed
I your princess
Today our last walk together
I carry you on my back
Your first born
I have not walked here
In all these years
You have been ill
The path is overgrown
I feel the sting
Of so many nettles
So much is changed
But I still know my way
Arms overhead
I press forward
With one last push
I am through
Out in the light
The beach is PERFECT
Someone has left
A totem of stacked stones
An island in the middle of the stream
A place to leave you in honor
I sit and write
In your favorite sweater and hat
Your bell
Your original hippy bell
Sounds my way
And...here you are
In sand castles
And 4th of July
Campouts
And trout fishing
The smell of sea and bacon
Turpentine and linseed oil
The canvases of my life
The happiest times
I can remember
I am growing old now
And I don't know what to do
All these days ahead
Without you
I AM GRIEVING
I rub your ash across my feet
And wade into the river
Atop a large flat rock
Are seven stacked stones
I spread you like mortar
Between them
I beat my chest and scream and wail
My tears fill my hands
Then to the ocean’s edge it spills
You seemed so white
And then
Were swallowed up
And disappeared
Into kelp and foam
I've held some of you back
To leave on the road
And the trail home
Bread crumbs
My fingers are dusted with white powder
I carry you under my nails
And between my toes
The sea seemed so loud when I arrived
Now it whispers
And I am ok
And you are ok
And it’s time to go home..
I love you all be well heal and live Jerri
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