That's a lot of love

2nd grade author visits + early reviews of Still Here

Last week we shared that Still Here: A Poetry Memoir of Grief & Love arrives February 21. It’s been a wild week since then! The reception of this project surprised me. I hoped it would be meaningful to others, but you all took it to another level. It’s weird to feel excited about a grief book, but maybe that shows how deeply we’re looking for ways to feel the challenging emotions of life, especially the last few years of pandemic. Thank you for supporting this project. It means more than you’ll ever know.

On Tuesday I got to spend time with my son’s second grade class as a visiting author. It was delightful!

Sitting on a chair in front of a group of seven and eight-year-olds, I shared, “So I have two names. Mrs. Smith and Wesley’s mom.” Giggles erupted.

My son shyly smiled with the adorable combination of embarrassment and pride.

I shared my love of writing since my days in elementary school, my time as a high school newspaper writer, being a pastor, and now a writer (again). I showed them my two books and we talked self-publishing, poetry, and where we get inspiration for our writing.

They wanted to hear a poem so I read one written for my kids and their cousins after they lost their uncle. It felt like the words landed in the students’ hearts and they sighed. It really is okay to feel sad. We don’t need to fix it. It’s how we show our love for people we miss. They made sure to tell me all the people (and animals) they’ve lost.

We talked about how many poems are in the book and that I wrote most of them when I felt sad. “You must have felt really sad!” I did. “That’s a lot of love.”

The class has been writing their own narrative stories and I got to listen to seven or eight of them. What a joy to look into their eyes and affirm their writing skills and creativity.

Several of them even wrote new poems. My son whispered in my ear, “I can just show you what I wrote at home.” Later that day, he handed me his computer so I could see the two poems he wrote.

My jaw dropped open. So did my soul. My 8-year-old son put simple and beautiful words to the loss of his uncle and how his love is still here. I sometimes forget that kids are listening to how we talk about life. He echoed several themes of the book. I turned to him and said, “Thank you for writing this. Did it help you feel some of the big feelings around Jeremy?” He nodded. I continued, “Would you like to add it to the book? I think this would help others with their big feelings too.” He smiled, nodded, and ran off to play.

I added it last night to the final manuscript. Friends, I tell you. Writing this book was my way to navigate an impossible season. The truth that anything we create can serve others is ridiculous grace.

Today, I’m honored to share a few early reviews of “Still Here.” Grateful to be slowly moving through this launch season with each of you.

Having recently lost dear loved ones, my inner being was almost numb. This book invited me to dialogue and dance gently with loss, grief, and death. A dance that helps me move towards a new rhythm of gratefulness for departed loved ones, our memories together, and my own life as it is today. Thank you, Jenny Smith.

- Rev. David Valera, Executive Director of Connectional Ministries for the Pacific Northwest Conference of the United Methodist Church

Deeply personal and raw. Deeply profound and relatable. Jenny Smith’s grief poetry collection “Still Here” is an incredibly beautiful and moving book of poems. Crafted with care, the author reaches into the depths of her grieving heart to share the realities of immense loss. Her words bear witness to the painful realities of death while bravely exploring the truth that love still remains and persists. This book will resonate so deeply with grieving hearts. The poems will make the reader feel validated in their emotional process and encouraged to journey through their grief gently with arms and hearts open to the light and hope that can still be found there. I cannot recommend this book enough. Well done.

- Liz Newman, author of I Look To The Mourning Sky: A Book of Poems & Writing Prompts for the Grieving Heart

Jenny Smith has written a grief book that takes us both to the depths of pain and loss and gives us the grace to keep living.  Her poems offer profoundly important permissions to the bereaved: it's also okay to stay inside "this / cozy little terrible / home of grief," but "it's okay to unclench / your hands from your heart" too.  Her poems chronicle vivid moments in the aftermath of a sudden death, like the sweater she wore in the hospital, putting on mascara again, and crying in the cheese aisle at the grocery store.  Each poem allows readers to "see me / hear me / love me / while i grieve," something our culture rarely allows. 

Throughout the collection, the author watches herself without judgment as she learns to face her loss: "i'm seeing / parts of me / i only dreamed of."  Her willingness to observe the changes in herself gives grieving readers the gift of solidarity as they navigate becoming people who have stories of loss.  Jenny reminds us "we're all grieving something," and "it is pure courage / imagining a new world / where we hurt / and / still live."  In the form of a book of poems, she has given us the space we need to be honest about our losses and the courage we dream of to keep living anyway.

- Rev. Katy Shedlock, poet & pastor 

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Book Tour

Do you have a community or group who would like to engage a conversation on grief? Message me at hello@jennysmithwrites.com and let’s set something up. In-person or virtual gatherings are available starting in March and beyond. We’ve got churches, youth groups, student groups, and community offerings on the schedule so far. I look forward to creating spaces where humans can show up with the grief they carry and leave feeling a bit lighter. We’re in this together.

Reflection

Where does grief live in your body today? Consider setting aside a few minutes to check in with your body today. Gently touch body parts that ache or feel tight. Breathe deeply and honor your body. It holds your stories, unshed tears, and worries. Offer your body deep love today.