Deaths seem to be hanging in the air this month. Two of my friends are dealing with the deaths of their fathers. One of them loved their father, the other not so much. Lots of conflicting emotions. <\/p>\n
It’s been many years since my Dad died. I still miss him, especially around Father’s Day. This poem was written the day he died (October 1, 1994). I didn’t have a phone at the time, so Mom called the police. They knocked on my door that morning and told me to call Mom since there had been a family emergency.<\/p>\n
They said you died this morning.
\nAnd yet your presence fills this room–
\nI can see you clearly at my graduation,
\nlaughing at my bizarre jokes
\nover dinner at Calhoun\u2019s,
\nand smiling (finally) at my
\nchoice of boyfriends.<\/p>\n
I have not tasted homemade
\nmacaroni and cheese since
\nI was six when I was
\npresented with a conglomeration
\nof leftover cheeses and noodles.
\nI promptly presented my bowl
\nback to you.<\/p>\n
You ate all of it, with a smiling face
\nwhile we laughed–
\nand secretly swore-off homemade
\nbachelor\u2019s cooking.<\/p>\n
The night air is cold now and
\nmosquitoes light on my arm, biting–
\neven as they did on yearly camping trips
\nfrom here to lost and back again.
\nI have never seen so many \u2018Jesus-Christ!\u2019 drivers
\nnor passed as many gas stations selling maps.<\/p>\n
Here, gathered among the living,
\nyou are alive–
\ntelling me orange doesn\u2019t go with argyle
\nand not to blow dandelion seeds across the lawn.<\/p>\n
I clean my room now–
\nwithout prompting from
\nblack bag cleanup crews
\nthat would obliterate loved, unused toys.<\/p>\n
I loathed giving away,
\nmuch less throwing away
\nloved items–
\nuntil seeing the inheritor
\ncherish them as much,
\nand pass them on to another place of joy.<\/p>\n
Deaths seem to be hanging in the air this month. Two of my friends are dealing with the deaths of their fathers. One of them loved their father, the other not so much. Lots of conflicting emotions. It’s been many years since my Dad died. I still miss him, especially around Father’s Day. This poem…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes","ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[19,16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2767","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","category-technical-fiction-poetry-fan-fiction"],"yoast_head":"\n