untangling the web

When at last you think you have accepted what is,

as soon as you

bask in the glow

of evolvement,

something triggers a reaction you thought was gone,

and old hurts and

resentments come

spewing in such

profusion that you start drowning in them until

you remember

to stop and breathe

and let it go.

Sun-drenched country roads bring flashbacks

of my childhood,

the Sunday drives,

ups, downs, and curves,

shrieks of laughter from the back seat

as Dad sped up

for “stomach” bumps,

taking our breath.

No seat belts then to keep us from

slipping, sliding

across the seat

with childhood joy.

Sandpipers prance at water’s  edge, seagulls waiting

for crumbs to drop,

babies in sun hats,

waves in, waves out.

Boys on surfboards ride curling foam, slicing water,

wind whips umbrellas

inside out,

waves in, waves out.

Rum drinks sipped at end of day, chairs pulled up to water,

sandy feet and

relaxed bodies,

waves in, waves out.

What I wanted to say to you

when you walked in the room unannounced,

not even knocking first,

medical students in tow,

and proceeded as if we were not there …

We were there, a dying father, his wife, and two of his daughters.

We were not objects, we were humans,

and our father was not a body to be talked about but

a fellow human with a story,

a beloved physician with a bedside manner

that endeared him to his patients,

not just a sick old man.

It does not matter who he was or his station in life;

he could have been any man and every man.

Whoever he was, he and his family deserved some respect

and compassion.

That was years ago and now,

my only hope is that

somewhere along the journey

you have learned to respect and care for your patients and their families

the way my father did.

Farewell Robin, complex, gentle soul, no stranger

to depression.

Lonely childhood,

giving voices

to toy soldiers, overcoming shyness to pull

belly-shaking

laughter, tear-streaming

mirth from us all.

What could we have done to pull you through your sadness,

to heal your wounds,

to enclose you in

a circle of love?

The house settles back to its familiar self,

washer chugging, dryer spinning,

stillness pervades,

calmness returns.

Lying in bed remembering sounds of Ipads,

lab’s silky brow,

puppy licks, warmth,

grandsons, grand dogs,

Signed baseballs, shirts from Squirrels’ and Nationals’ games.

Missing chaos,

grateful for peace

at the same time.

.

Greeting the morning together,

a boy and dog

cuddle in a

wicker chair on

an open porch as the sun wakes

the earth from sleep

and people start

their morning chores.

Swathed in unconditional love,

they arm themselves

for whatever

the day will bring.

A poem must be read aloud to

be fully loved.

Don’t believe me?

Then try reading

Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese or

Wendell Berry’s

Peace of Wild Things.

Let the words roll

off your tongue, savor each word, phrase,

embrace them all.

Now go find a

new poem to love.