daughter, while i'm still here
Both intellectually stimulating an emotionally engaging, the poems in daughter, while i'm still here capture a mother's desire to convey what over eight decades of experiences and learnings have revealed about the fragility of life, relationships and happiness, which she shares in poignant moments of recollection during her final weeks in hospice. Each poem vividly reveals fragments of an enduring connection with her daughter, sometimes wound into stories about teeth, snapshots or shoes, but more often in an opening up of her most vulnerable self. There are reasons to cry, laugh, and grieve as she allows her daughter to share and feel her thoughts, hopes, and dreams, even as she tries to push back against the dementia that ultimately robs her of her words. Four dream-like photos contribute to the poems' emotional impact.
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Compelling, elegant, and remarkably honest, daughter, while i'm still here is filled with stark, realistic poems that paint an intimate portrait of love, loss, family, identity, and the ever-present need for empathy. In these vibrant poems of nature and biography, Baszczynski showcases a true talent for imbuing the smallest human details with authenticity and layered meanings. Each poem maps out the human heart, in all its internal conflicts, with precision and grace. Overflowing with vivid and accessible language and uniquely compelling structures, daughter, while i'm still here is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally engaging, written with clear eyes and an open, curious heart.
-John Sibley Williams, author of prize-winning Scale Model of a Country at Dawn, The Drowning House, As One Fire Consumes Another and Skin Memory
With a bittersweet intimacy, the voice and persona of a mother in hospice comes fully to life in Marilyn Baszczynski's daughter, while I'm still here. Through the eyes of a woman in conversation with her daughter, the poet, with her scrapbooks, stilettos, and remembered moments with long-silent loves, Baszczynski weaves a tender narrative through dried roses, dentures and dream dances. Baszczynski, with her light hand and fine craft, simultaneously recreates her mother's joys while grieving the inevitable: "a laugh rumbles up past congested lungs, / catches in my throat and i cough, while / tears tumble over my crinkled cheeks." For anyone who is a daughter, a mother, a grandmother, a child, a parent, the power of this work will cause your own re-examination of all that is loved, hidden, transcribed and imagined in your dearest relationships.
-Dawn Terpstra, author of Songs from the Summer Kitchen
