Earlier this month, my husband, Jerry Miller, passed away unexpectedly. In the ensuing chaos, confusion, and grief, I’m turning over my blog space this week to a guest post.

Please enjoy the poem “What Good,” by my daughter, Sally Shideler, as she processes the loss of her stepfather and second dad:
        

What good is

a handmade green rug
         with pomegranates and carnations
         from Greece
         or Turkey
                (I don't know
                [they travelled so much])

a dirty pair of leather work gloves
or
a little blue convertible 
or
a tool chest taller than I am 

An orange baseball cap
a Kindle 
a set of
          perfect camping chairs
an old motorcycle
two lawnmowers

A Mexican guitar
a smooth egg
         coaxed by a master carver
                 from a humble hunk of agate

The most perfect lamp
         sourced
                  in parts
         from three different sellers
         not a month ago
                  (so we could see better
                  on family game nights -
                  you know,
                  because we were planning 
                  so many)

What good is any of it 
without the man
who brought all of these objects together 
        and made them 
        make sense? 

What good? 
         I ask, through tears
But just as quickly
         I hear

"It is the one true Good
the Good of love
         and life
                 well-lived:
that Good 
which is in a lumpy tomato
grown at home
eaten in summer
         with salt
or the final chord
of a symphony
as it resonates 
         and settles
         in your nerves
 or in spotting the exit 
                for home
as it grows dark
                and moving gratefully 
                                    to the right" 

All these things
Some given away
Some to be kept 
         for as long 
         as we are allowed
                  and then 
                           given away themselves 
when we, too, finally stop 
being here
         to make them 
         make sense
         
and in their new houses
they will accumulate 
new memories
and belong to someone else:
the next one
          to make them
                    make sense,
maybe even better than we did

So yes!
What Good!
What pure and awesome Good:
What love.

He was just here
I swear

but soon 
he will be everywhere