(Nancy Rodrigo)
The oreos were screaming at me
from the aisle at Publix
Your favorite cookies
I kept seeing them
around every corner
as if they were the ghost
of you
Knowing I will never
cook for you again
is sometimes too much
you thanked me for every meal
even a frozen dinner
I can’t cook
for one
food doesn’t taste good
Can’t eat
what I used to
or buy the foods
you liked
Why don’t you appear
in the aisle
why don’t you
visit me
I hear stories of other deceased spouses
visiting their wives
Why not me?
I hear you in the chimes
on the back porch
in the TV that went on
in the hotel room
in the middle of the night
in the traffic, sometimes
I was never good at directions
I don’t even have an old
voicemail message
to listen to
we preferred to text
so much silence
so much left unsaid
I can’t cook, and
I don’t want to
*Artwork by Nancy Rodrigo.
New York-born artist Nancy Rodrigo uses her life experiences as a medium. “The media and content have changed and evolve to reflect my experiences. I see art as a means of expression and a therapeutic process.” She began her art career in 1981 under the name Nancy Weinstock, exhibiting in the East Village, Soho, Chelsea and Brooklyn. Her recent work of rich, colorful biomorphic paintings‒with vaginal imagery‒influenced by the Feminist Art Movement, including initiators Judy Chicago, Nancy Spero and Miriam Schapiro. In the 90’s she did a series of works on canvas and mixed media constructions, the “Collective Memory Series.” These intricate pieces are constructed from found objects, organic and synthetic materials, paints and old photographs. Another project she is working on is the “Subway Series” hundreds of pen and ink portraits of people riding the NYC subways, all done without the rider’s knowledge and capturing most of the portrait in under 10 minutes. This project has been a love letter to my city and her amazing people. Rodrigo’s work is diverse, expressive, and she is very prolific.
If I were you, I’d be buying those Oreos. Be gentle with yourself. ❤️
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Heartbreaking. So very sorry, Erica.
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Such a sad poem, Erica. It made me tear up. I’m sure Lorin is there in all those places watching over you. He loved you so much.. My heart so goes out to you.. 💟
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Tears…
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Love the drawing and the poem. I agree, I’d buy those Oreos. You may want to visit the mediums in Talladega, FL. I found great comfort there. My loved ones showed up to talk.
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Not Talladega. Cassadaga.
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I’ve always heard that our loved ones DO send us messages, although not always how and where we’d expect. I’m glad you’ve gotten some of those messages, at least. And I agree with the other posters here – if you want those Oreos, treat yourself to them – you definitely deserve them.
Sending a hug from over here.
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Sorry for not responding to your comments, friends. Feeling rather depressed these days.
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