waiting for the call… [::}–{::}…

waiting for the call… [::}–{::}…

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I now have become one of those stories, you don’t expect it, maybe you do, I did not after all these months, but things happen, life really does just happen sometimes, suddenly, you know this, you prepare for this, but steering a ship in the middle of a sudden tempest is the only way you understand this experience fully, a knot, a grinding stone in my bowels, waiting for the call, all life ends, but when you make that decision, I can not fully explain the feeling yet… I have often said, and it is very true, my life has been relatively free of tragedy and death, there is no rhyme or reason for this, no cruel hand, no benevolent marker, just the luck of the draw, incredible luck, as billions of years of the universe have led to this moment, or moments, sitting here, sitting still but still pacing, having a glass of bourbon to calm my nerves, heart still racing still, a not so routine hospital visit a few weeks ago that might have worked out fine, upended by the virus which has diverted the cart from the road to wellness, I have been anticipating my parent’s generation to start falling for some time, and some have here and there, and now my personal story becomes part of the fabric of this pandemic, I was never blasé about the virus, I always looked @ the numbers with logic, the vast majority of those infected survive but the vulnerable populations are just that, vulnerable, and even here as we embark on the gateway of a vaccine – it seems that much more cruel, but a virus has no eyes or a heart, I am lucky that I was able to make a last visit and let my father ‘face time good bye’ many close relatives, so, I know, many people did not have that chance, I am thankful for that, and now, I try to astral project myself into the hospital room now, as I sit here not sleeping, in my mind, I am sitting next to him, holding his hand and letting him know I am there, “dad, I’m here”, I see this so clearly, all the details of the room and the warmth of his hand, somehow hoping the universe will carry my message to his mind’s ear – somehow, is this prayer? I suppose, in my own way, so, now, we wait, for the inevitable full end, the one we signed off for just hours ago, waiting for the call, waiting for the call, late into this night, isolated from all those we love, leaving a loved one isolated to leave this world alone, waiting for the call.

I do not write this for your sympathy (I appreciate your decency, thank you, I do but that is not the purpose of this piece), more for those who may be or have experienced the same. This has been a trying day, making decisions and the speed they are implemented is dizzying, more life altering scenes happened in a smattering of mere hours than I can even digest now, so I had to write it out, at least what I can handle @ this hour. I would like to send a personal thanks to the staff @ JFK Hospital in Edison NJ.

pure thought after a phone call. [:}–{:]…

pure thought after a phone call. [:}–{:]…

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and I never heard his voice this way
from a mountain, yet-
weak, trembling and reaching
“I am going, I am going, david”
I conversed with normalcy in the situation
for what do you do
who is prepared for these times
even though we all come to these times
and prepare for them, we come to them

on this eve;
I will remember the quiet cold
a throbbing silence in the night
I go about routine
a lone goose in the far starry distance
I think I can actually see
the sad lonely bird across
and I hear a sad lonely honk
not sure if this is the last migrant
flowing south
across this december new jersey sky
one more time
for all the wrappings
all the human might
I am helpless
a babe, once again, I am reduced

I wanted to tell him more
to make him want to come back
to spend one more afternoon on the deck
soaking in the sun
like some ancient aztec god
as if the sun was beaming only for him
maybe it was
and I long for him
to have one more time
in that glory of the sun
with no pain, no worry
just a mere moment of simple life
one more time
just for him, as much as for me
to say good bye,
not like this, on this call
family walled off in cells
deprived of touch
I have no cause to petition the lord
I have no cause greater than any
I have nothing to barter, nothing to trade
but for love
from whom that from which I was raised
a model of imperfection
which is the beauty of humanity
for in that imperfection
we find eternity –
in love
for those – our family.

notes… regardless of the vehicle, death comes, so what then, for the living, I still smile, because the universe has taught me to be alive, so be alive – and love – the greatest of these is love…

the banquet… {{B}}

the banquet… {{B}}

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how subtly we move down the long table, a feast with our family, different times of the year feel the same in here, time is somewhere peering in with jealous eyes. knowing at some point we will venture outside again, once small children (so I recall) are now here at the main table as adults grown up, their kids at the small one or running around, the parade of cousins, aunts, uncles and those married in moves on, the table has swelled all these years, I always knew, but never saw the subtraction coming as I do now, this soon, expected at some point, sure, but never on my side, in my direct row of chairs, a reckoning, for this is the way life is, I suppose we all hold onto untouchable belief, even in the sheer face of the inevitability, the reality, maybe we are fools but I would rather side on the side of belief against all and embrace that fool of myself, for what else can we do, pass the potatoes down and share a drink or two, a sliding moment of smiles, a flash of stories brought out like seasonal accouterments, as the actuality of the tales seem, and are, further off in the distance, for perhaps this is the time of my reckoning, at least as I slide chairs, as the elders inevitably become phantoms, one by one, some by some, so, all the more – stop and enjoy the spectacle, the pageant, the miracle, the banquet of life while the fruit is ripe, the buffet is vast and the glasses full, a moment to take in, as I approach the land of reckoning, not for myself, just yet, but I see, and feel, the coming of the sunset for the generation I am replacing in line next as I move toward the end of the table, may I carry such yoke with dignity and humanity – and love.

about observing aging of those you love.

about observing aging of those you love.

candle with light
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“the exodus of light”

for I am forced to observe
my future, my fortune unfold, to post
age-ed vessel
in rush grey and white
all colors have faded
the exodus of light
as the source grows dimmer
a once blazing beacon now meagerly flickers
cracks, wrinkles, crooked bent
words repeated, forgotten,
thoughts at a loss.
to the memory of my dear mother
or what is left
I dare not to grasp too hard
to break what remains to ash
and yet a memory
is all I will soon there have

with love, and thank you mom, your son.

notes… this was totally and utterly inspired by this post @ another blog, it was instant, it was done, it made sense, and also cut like a gun. age is a wonderful thing, time is a bastard robbing everything, do not confuse them as twins, understand them as best you can…