In the dim light of
Dusk, following the season’s
First snow, Todd unloads
The dishwasher. Stacks
Of ceramic, handfuls of
Silver are gleaming
And put in place. I
Lie there, listening. Moments
Are measured. Cupboards’
Metal magnets snap
Shut from shaky hinges while
Drawers slide open and
Shut on old tracks as
If talking to each other.
My legs, supported
By the back of the
Couch, arms creased at the elbows,
Hands cupped over heart
Still weighted from sleep.
I shut my eyes, corralling
Sensations. Beneath
The wood floor, boiler
Churns and exhales while our dog
Paces, circles and
Senses she will have
To wait for supper. Soon I
Will understand why,
Meticulously,
My father put on his watch,
Over-shirt, hung the
Beeper from his neck,
Slipped on socks and a pair of
Slippers six times a
Night to take measured
Steps to the bathroom. Control.
What if he fell? Now,
From the kitchen, Todd
Turns on the faucet, water
Races past my thoughts.
In the distance I
hear the sound of chimes singing,
“Calling all Angels!”
Outside the leaves are
Covered with intricately
Woven snowflakes—Grace
Covering thousands
Of intricately woven
Souls. I rise and take
Measured steps across
The floor, remembering my
Dad, then feed the dog.
Lovely.
Great poem and picture Deb, you brought us there including the emotion of the thoughts. Our trees look like yours and you can tell which way the storm blew through as one side of the trees are pasted white.
This is so moving, Deb. Whilst all the sounds of everyday life go on all around us, there are times when we drift off into an inner world of nostalgia. You penned it beautifully.
Beautiful ❤️
Isn’t it amazing how random memories will pierce through the sights and sounds of the present moment, with no logical connection between the two? I pray that in remembering your dad your mind also took you to a few joyful times with him, before (or maybe while!) you fed the dog. I’m so thankful God gave us the capacity of memory, even though all memories are not pleasant. The delightful outweigh the difficult, I think.
Poignant…and lovely.
Aww, thanks, Piano girl. ❤️
🌻🤎💛
Thank you, Lesley.❤️
Thanks, Gary. I love that. From now on I’ll think of you and say, look at those trees the wind pasted white!
Thanks, Larry.
I agree with you, Nancy. The delightful outweighs the difficult. My memories of my Dad are precious to me. And I love how I gain new understanding and insight of both my parents as the years pass even though they too have passed. Love outlasts everything. Thank you always for your lovely, thoughtful comments. ❤️