stalking a younger year

stalking a younger year

staring at the roses in the vase

at the next table

empty of people

he focused on those petals

something clicked

I got up and brought the vase to him

he grumbled that I shouldn't touch it

he was Dad in that moment

not the one who barely knew me

or even where he was

I felt the reprimand made me smile

a voice that drove fear into me

like a stake through the heart

so many years before

I wonder if he outlasted those flowers

most likely,

but I hope they set some new ones

by his bedside at the end

it would have made him smile

and in my thoughts

I would have moved the vase closer

grumble, grumble

thanks, Dad.

erin-cilberto

10/7/22

Reviews

[W. Barrett Munn]

The memory illnesses are so difficult for the families. They rob the final months or sometimes years of interaction and creep in so insidiously we don’t know when to start that process of saying goodbye. Well written, Jacob.

Winston

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Yes, hard to know when...thanks for the understanding review, Winston,
j.

[Patricia Wedel]

My Mom was a giving person, and my Dad liked Shakespeare and found his demise in Poetry. I am a mixture of the two. Woe is me… must have been born on a Wednesday. Always have Flowers close by. gently, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I am not my parents' child...or at least at times I think I could not have been...
strange isn't it? But flowers are always nice to have close by.
j.

[softlyfall]

This overflows. It pours out love and understanding and kindness and thankfulness and forgiveness and empathy.
I realize I cry easily, but this did make me weepy...its just so lovely and full of love and it made me miss me da

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your understanding...I still miss him so much...
you are kind, softlyfall.
read morethank you for your understanding...I still miss him so much...
you are kind, softlyfall.
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Last moments with your Dad, you got his true self coming through the fog. No wonder you smiled. I had that clarity with my own mum, the last time I had a conversation with her. It was a gift that neither of my sisters got. I will never forget it. Your poem J, so touching. I hope your Dad got more flowers too at the end.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

he was certainly celebrated at the end...what he would have liked much better than everyone shedding tears.
thank you, Chris, for your understanding,
j.

[Miss Sharon]

(it would have made him smile and in my thoughts I would have moved the vase closer) My favorite lines J. ~Sharon

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Sharon,
j.

[Ken e Bujold]

wow!!!! what to make of this intriguing work. Bitter? a little. Regretful? Indeed. A reflection on one's own mortality? I think so. The baggage we carry is so often fraught with images and emotions we don't really know are there hidden, until we allow ourselves the absolute freedom to have the pen transcribe what we have only dared to write subconsciously up until now. This is an extremely personal poem Jacob, that goes without saying, but it nevertheless opens a great many windows on mine, and any reader's mind. Or so I would like to think. An absolutely brilliant bit of writing.

ken

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Ken,
j.