For years, I didn’t speak to my father,
that us, until today. He had news for me.
Today, I drove in trepidation to his house,
my childhood home, to find answers.
Up the old driveway, seeing changes,
more vegetation and tall grass,
nothing trimmed nor like I remember
from childhood. The lilacs still present.
The first glimpse of him at age 84,
how much he’s aged, his voice softer,
hit me hard. Modifications to the house
made like hanging rope on stairs
to assist him getting up and down.
You can be estranged, but when it’s too late,
you’ll wholeheartedly regret it!
One thing I discovered was my mother’s Bible.
Her reading it at the kitchen table
when she was in a state of sorrow.
Stacks of dusty books I left behind
many years ago in the basement.
And my father informing me
of his kidney and heart issues.
If I didn’t go there today,
it would have been a lingering regret
that I would have carried forever!
My old room, where my writing began,
nostalgia! The desk I broke ground
on my first works; poetry and stories.
I will not live with some lingering regret,
I will live on and remember my father’s life.
Powerful work. You bring this to life.
Thanks Thomas. I could have written so much more on this.
That’s a super deep piece, Daniel. I can see how the trip was an inspiration on so many levels.
Meg, it was so challenging the trip there. You have no idea. Wiping the dust off of my old things and taking some. See him so different and frail now. My mom was the glue that kept our family together, now, like sticks in the wind my family. 😢
Brilliantly penned, Daniel. This is a tremendous write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Much respect
Naaj
Congrats on your award for this piece, Daniel. It was well deserved.
xoxo
Thanks, Meg.