Who I am.

I write about the landscape of grief, nature, and the wisdom of fools. The author of four books, my essays, poems, and reviews have been published in over 50 journals, including in the Huffington Post and Colorado Review. I’ve won the River Teeth Nonfiction Book Award, the Chautauqua and Literal Latte’s essay prizes, and my work has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and named a notable by Best American Essays. My account of hiking in Yosemite to deal with my wife’s death, Mountains of Light, was published by the University of Nebraska Press. http://www.markliebenow.com.

Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Rumi's Stretcher from Grace

            Last night I was wandering around the house, which is something I do now and then to get my bearings, when a line from Rumi’s “Zero Circle” came to mind: “Then a stretcher will come from grace to gather us up.” I don’t think Rumi was addressing grief, but his words have useful insights. 

 

            The poem starts: “Be helpless, dumbfounded, / Unable to say yes or no.” This pretty much sums up our state of mind when grief begins. We no longer know what to think or feel, and find it hard to make even simple decisions.

 

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Last Moments With Mom

            It’s difficult to take care of an aging parent. After years of raising their children, parents find it hard to let their children take care of them. If our parents are near death, we also feel a great silence falling and sense their uneasiness about what is going to happen. The time of dying, and the moments of death, are sacred. They come quickly, and are gone. Be attentive to them.

            Beth Haley, a long-time friend who provided invaluable assistance after my wife died, attended to her mother in her last days. Beth wrote the following. I was moved by her gentle care for her mother and the attention she pays to her own grief. She has graciously allowed me to share her words with you.