This book is more than a collection of poems. It’s a story of presence, of love, and of learning how to sit with grief when words are all you have. It is the first book Sean and I ever published together, though it was never part of our original plan.
At the time, I was deep into writing another book about blockchain technology, an entirely different genre. But when Sean’s stepfather fell ill and entered the final stage of life, everything shifted. Sean needed me, not just in the day-to-day, but in a deeper, quieter way. So I set that blockchain book aside and turned my full attention to the moment we were living in. I wanted to be there for Sean, and I wanted to help him bring whatever light I could into a profoundly difficult time.
Sean and I have always loved reading to each other. One of our favorite shared rituals was curling up with poems, his favorite from childhood was Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein, while I was drawn to the words of Robert Frost, Samuel Coleridge, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and other timeless poets. Poetry was where we found calm, presence, and connection.
So when the hospice care worker spoke to us about the importance of presence and language for the dying, we reached instinctively for what brought us peace. At first, I searched online for meaningful poems – pieces like Death Be Not Proud by John Donne and When I Am Dead, My Darling by Christina Rosetti. While these poems are beautiful works of art, rich in language and emotional weight, they didn’t speak gently into the space we were trying to hold. They didn’t soften that moment.
That’s when we began writing our own.
We started crafting poems specifically for Sean’s stepfather, with words filled with gentleness, remembrance, and presence. Sean and I took turns reading to him, our voices weaving together across the quiet room. We watched his body relax. We felt a sense of peace settle in. And in those moments, it seemed the poems held more than just words.
They held love.
This book became a gift for us. A shared creation. A way to move through grief together and to offer something enduring from a moment that felt so fragile. Our hope is that these poems bring a sense of light to those walking their own paths through loss and love.
Here’s a poem that capture our shared journey.
In the Quiet, We Read
We sat by his side, the world slowed its pace,
Grief like a shadow, soft on his face.
With trembling hands and voices low,
We offered him poems, gentle and slow.
Not prayers, not silence, but words we knew—
Lines filled with love, with what felt true.
And as each verse fell into air,
We felt him resting, held in our care.