Mom is agitated, speaks breathlessly, her voice
trembles - a loving autocratic religious fanatic,
but I could not stand her ravings as my dad was
dying - cutting her off when she tried to repeat
her endless stories in an acute religious fervour
I walked off when she watched the noisy pastor
with his gurgling, falling-about disciples receiving
a spirit or something, a huge show, but I cannot
stand concerts. Now mom’s lost without dad to
take care of, without dad to fill her refined world
With his raucous voice; and she misses him, his
sense of humour and irritating habit of switching
on his folk music far too loud, of listening to the
news at highest volume - & then there’s Daniel,
dad’s gardener who was more Dad’s close
Companion for whom dad prepared tea and sand-
wiches – Daniel still waters the garden & still sits
in his corner quietly, still remembers dad’s passion
for green, growing things - back to my meditation
on dad’s MIND wandering other dimensions
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Dying Eventually
Listening to my favourite Internet guru, quite clearly this works for many people as they repeat the jargon flawlessly and I wish I could ge...
-
“This boy’s gonna make it” – ‘n heildronk op my ma, Annemarie: Dit gaan soms broekskeur om met familie klaar te kom want "Famil...
-
Found a perfect rendition of the Arabic alphabet on the Internet, trying to remember the letter KHa is pronounced with a guttural G...
-
Looking for the good, ignoring the sad (anything we dislike), according to Abraham’s (Esther Hick’s) website: “You cannot look at what you ...
No comments:
Post a Comment