A moving testament to a parent’s love and the invaluable support of community

A review of and then by Kelly Bradley

by Gregory Luce

Grief is one of the great universal subjects of poetry, indeed, of all arts. The loss of a child is obviously one of the most tragic triggers of grief; if one is a parent, it’s almost unimaginable. and then is Bradley’s sequel to her collection a gift, which first related the story of her son Baeley’s death in 2024. 

[The poet’s son Baeley.]

Kelly Bradley is a poet based in Montgomery County, Maryland. In addition to her writing, she has started an intriguing business of grave tending, inspired by her own efforts to keep Baeley’s memory alive.

This collection relates the poet’s continuing efforts to deal with her grief and to celebrate the tremendous support she has received from Baeley’s friends.

cheddar atlas boo

every day
week
month
and year
that passes as you grow

is a reminder
of how long Baeley
has not been here
(nearly seven months)

and yet
marks
the time
I get closer
to seeing him again

This poem, seemingly addressed to a pet, is indicative of both the poet’s continuing grief and her growing acceptance of her son’s absence.

A route the speaker doesn't normally take unexpectedly brings her to the spot of his fatal accident and provides  a fresh reminder of the speaker’s loss:

Baeley
today I drove by the place where you died
I didn’t mean to
can’t drive on the highway now
so I take the other routes

this one took me
there
where you died….

I am so sorry for our loss
still waiting for justice
if it will be delivered
for those of us left behind
without you….

and nothing 
not one thing
was ever the same
again….

(“Today”)

The title poem continues to express the poet’s grief but also—with the single word "we"—acknowledges the support she has received from his friends:

and then
we brought the last of the peonies
from home
to drape
grace
and cover
your grave

(‘and then”)

That poem is followed by a fascinating look at what one learns about cemeteries when one has to arrange for a burial and subsequent maintenance:

Baeley
before you died

I did not know about 
cemeteries

the mowing patterns and seasons
(all mowing stops in November and holiday decorations are displayed until the
March cleanup)

the popular days when families come in droves, have picnics
despite the no picnic signs
it is so crowded the two-way streets become one-way
(Mother’s Day)

the cemetery go-bag for the car….

(“cemetery stuff”)

This poem also foreshadows Bradley’s decision to start a grave-tending business, one of the happier results of her son’s death.

The final poem, “in between the circus trains,” sums up the joy and peace—however temporary—of sharing experiences with Baeley’s friends. I quote in full:

and then
I met with your friends
to watch a soccer match

at the stadium where your brother works

they arrived with beers in their pockets
churros with caramel in their hands

cheering
yelling
calling off sides
jumping out of their seats at a GOAL

to support your brother
who arranged an event
for inclusion
got us the tickets

and for a moment
there was peace and joy
in between the circus trains

This collection is a moving testament to a parent’s love and the invaluable support of friends and family. Order a copy of and then. To learn more about Kelly, her writing, and her grave-tending business, read this interview with her friend and fellow poet Kristin Kowalski Ferragut.

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Kelly C. Bradley is an author, podcast host, and grave tender. She has written three books of poetry, and then and a gift (Baeley Atlas Co.) and love, loss and the enormity of it all (FootHills Publishing). She is host of Tending, a podcast about grief and how tending, applying oneself to the care of anything, can help. Tending is available on Apple and Spotify podcasts. Her grave tending focuses on the DMV area, creating sacred designs with beauty from trees, plants and flowers. Her books, grave tending and podcasts can be found on Instagram at the accounts @a___gift_, @kellycbradleydesigns, @tending_the_podcast.

Gregory Luce is the co-founder and poetry editor of Washington Unbound. He has published six chapbooks. He lives in Arlington and writes a monthly column for the online arts journal Scene4.