Remembering my Dad who left this world
December 1, 1994 . . . always remembered.
always loved.
You
visit me in dreams
sometimes
. . . silent always . . .
often
in disguise,
my
father, who was seldom silent
has
no tongue to speak now
in
that world of spirits.
The
passing years
attempting
to erase
the
sound of your voice
the
way you spoke my name
. . . that smile
the
one I memorized
that
kept you just for me
. . . my father.
Death
came for you
swift
and unexpected
on
that rainy night
in
a drunken car that raced
to
claim you for its own.
We
who loved you still
were
set to cheer
and
celebrate your life
of
eighty years . . .
in
just a few short days
but
that was not to be
. . .was it?
Instead
we gathered,
the
five of us, around your
wooden
overcoat
to
cry and weep remembering
how
in childhood
we
made you promise
not
to die.
You
would have danced with me
that
night and with my sisters
the
way you always did
when
the old songs played
shuffling
those
limber feet
across
the floor with ease
shaming
men much younger
but
that was not to be
. . . was it?.
No,
sweet Father . . .
that
delight was saved for heaven.
Daddy . . . was your name,
since
that first day I could utter it
and
crawl upon your lap
since
the first day you looked into my eyes
with
your great soft love.
Daddy
. . . you
were always mine.
I
remember how you walked inside my life
carrying
me on your shoulders
so
many times
telling
me how I was always wanted
always
loved . . .
coming
to my rescue
through
all those teenage fears and blunders.
Daddy
. . . you
had such a special heart
strange
to some who'd scoff
at
your devotion
but
what would we have done
we
five little stars
without
your steadfast love
that
dark-remembered day
when
Mama blew the roof
off
of our house
and
let the demons in?
Joanne
Cucinello
