~ I Wrote This In Memory Of My Father...


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~ I wrote this in 2003. Years after my Father died. I was once again weeping & it poured out in tears.

{Yes, I know it's not a rhyming piece, or even minimally balanced. Sorry.}

harsh cold towering

dark granite shadows

you

smoothly glacier faced

icy fjords in ward

numbing silence deep

echoes kept rebound

tightly held places chill

you

keeping depths untouchable

rebuffing the world

shining hard cold stone binding

you

... I don't know why I felt the need to share this here now. He died Dec. 26, not even close yet. Just a thing.

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~ That's a lovely thought belissima!

But I'm afraid his determination of nothing after death at all still holds him.

Y'know? I never heard him laugh.

It's very clear. There is no joy here.

Only a gripping finality without a chance for redemption.

Well-done my dear.

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~ I've tried, really really Really! To write a loving gentle anything about my Father.

He accepted parent hood tho he never wanted it. He did what a father should do & spent time with us.

{When someone seriously doesn't want to be anywhere near you, it's not a fun day...}

Once we were adults, it was still a contest to prove that we worthy of being spoken to.

I lived with his mother for months every summer for years. {I was shipped off} She was wonderful! :wub:

She was in her 30s when she had him, in 1930 that wasn't good. His father was a quiet Swede & distant.

I found out my father didn't speak until he was 3 & then in sentences but never to strangers until 8.

... That sounds like how they define some 'stuff' now, huh?

He was in the Navy in Korea & then went to college, dual Masters in Mathematics & Music.

Worked at RAND as a computer systems analyst for many years,

the top-secret stuff did make him a bit more crazier than he would have been otherwise.

When he died, we knew his apartment had ben searched. He was paranoid & left dust. The dust was disturbed.

{Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get ya!}

... Now that's a babble, huh?

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It sounds to me like he was what they call a savant, or maybe even high-functioning Aspergers Syndrome. Hard to know now.

I don't mean to psychoanalyse you, Claire, but have you tried forgiving him for being just who he was, and if so, have you forgiven yourself.

I know it sounds trite, and I hope you'll forgive me for that. :P But I find often that when something comes back up 'out-of-the-blue' it comes down to an issue of forgiveness.

Tom

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~ I know Tom, I know.

He stayed with us for a week for Thanksgiving, it was a wonderful visit, really. We talked. Honestly & true!

For the first time ever we actually communicated with love.

He was to come back for Christmas. He didn't answer his phone or return messages.

We called the police in his city & found-out he'd been taken to the hospital.

They wouldn't release information over the phone. We drove out there expecting the worse.

No, he was alive but couldn't move.

We went every day & watched him wish himself dead. He was comatose by Christmas Eve.

I was the one to tell the doctor & nurses he didn't want resucitation. They cried! They begged me!

But I had made a promise. I kept it.

He died Dec. 26 & I had to call my sister on her birthday to say our father was dead.

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I miss my dad too, Claire.

Towards the end he said all he had left to see was his grandchildren, and he would feel complete.

He died only a few months before his first granddaughter was concieved.

He died april 5th, 2001.

I still cry every year.

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~ Thank you all for reading that piece. I truly appreciate your kind words!

I know, pain of loss, it never goes away. You just learn to live with it.

I'm so very sorry for your loss Visionary! I can't really imagine losing a child. My mind slips away from that thought swiftly. My sympathies :friends:

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