Cheryl Peterson

PETERSON, Cheryl Burgan, age 48, of Dayton, Ohio formerly of Kenvir, passed away on Friday February 15, 2008 in Ohio. She was born in Harlan, Kentucky where she lived for 22 years and was a 1977 graduate of Evarts High School. She had lived the last 26 years in Dayton, Ohio and she was a member of the Church of the Brethren in New Carlisle, OH. Cheryl was preceded in death by her Father, Lee Burgan Jr. and by a Brother, Larry Lockhart. She is survived by her Husband of 30years Mike Peterson; two Daughters, Amy Peterson and Rachel Peterson and by a Very special Granddaughter Katie, all of Dayton; Mother, Hazel Buchanan Saylor and husband Anthony of Kenvir, KY; three Brothers, Fred Lockhart and wife Claire of Moresburg, TN; Kenneth Lockhart and wife Beverly of Baltimore, MD; Ricky Burgan and wife Patricia of Evansville, TN; five Sisters, Sandy Rowe and husband Mark of Harlan; Brenda Sizemore and husband Wayne of Corbin, KY; Karen Thornsburg and husband Gary of Dayton, TN; Robin Grubbs and fiancé Michael Gilley of Richmond, KY; Lisa White and husband Paul of Evarts; Very special Sister-Friend, Geraldene Bryant and husband Bill of Kenvir, KY; Many nieces, nephews, Aunts, Uncles, Family and Friends who will mourn her passing. The family will receive friends Tuesday, February 19, 2008 from 12:00-1:00pm at Newcomer Funeral Home Beavercreek Chapel. The Funeral service will follow at 1:00pm. Interment will be at Mt. Zion Park Cemetery. In lieu of flowers donations may be made to the Huntington's Disease Society of America, 505 Eighth Ave Suite 902 New York, NY 10018.




For My Mother, Upon Losing Her Voice...And Finding It

If I have lent any strength now,
you gave it first.
We began life conjoined and spent
the remaining time shell-shocked:
amputated limbs that twinge to be reattached.
And if I have been inconsiderate,
it was because I wanted to probe every vein
to discover you: a little, sparkling woman,
standing by our back porch,
passing out popsicles to children with uneven trims.
I wanted to hear why you almost drove a man over,
and what led you to leave the boundaries
of the known world for the risk of blind dates,
always seeking the promise of a life
beyond mountains and valleys
that always disappoint, as everything does.
You were never content to be divided between
one state and another, or your body and mine.
I think we breathe in the borders, the breaches
That fill our empty bits and pieces
with other bits, different pieces.
You and I have been disconnected,
but no one bared the blade.
You've been struck, but still hobble,
even when I want what's easy, or
to lie down and cry for some justice, for mercy, for anything
to end the lonely lingering in hospital beds…
Don't worry, mama. Your fingers lacing together with mine
are the only bridges I need to find you,
even if you fly towards worlds I can only imagine---
pain free, comprehending, eager---that's enough,
even if my heart is crippled.
We are all but parts, not wholes,
so I will try to be entire:
to take snow and make snow cream
and step, bowl raised, outside.