My dad's birthday is this Sunday, October 24th. It would be his 82nd birthday if he were alive. He passed away about six years ago, just days before I moved away from my podunk hometown to a big city that I had set foot in only a handful of times. The end of his life marked the beginning of a whole new life for me. It's strange to think about. He only witnessed my life up until I began my transition into adulthood. And since he was a ripe 55 years old when I was born, I only witnessed his life from middle-age to the end. Just as he will never know where my life has led me, I will never know exactly who he was before my life began. I have to settle for the caricature that my family's tall tales have drawn. But he is just as real and comforting in my thoughts and dreams as he ever was in real life. I love him and I miss him dearly.
The title of this poem is something my brother said that pretty much sums up life's big conundrum. For better or worse, things change every day and there is no stopping it. Life would be boring any other way.
Time Gets A Hold of Everything
For my brother
I saw a wrinkle today
Where did it come from?
Did the stork drop it off
Right between my eyes?
I'm taken by surprise
When I look at myself
Lines and lumps
Scars and bumps
Mark the spot
To the treasure yet uncovered
A different path from
My mother, father, brother
Yet the stories sound the same
I plan to take a trip
One-way to the past
One look into those baby blues
And I'll be on my daddy's knee
Not a care in my heart
And not a clue
That "time gets a hold of everything."
beautiful
ReplyDelete