Sunday, October 16, 2011

Twelve Years; Twenty Lines

It was twelve years yesterday
since my father passed away.
Light bulbs flicker off and on; I
can’t see him, but he’s not gone.

He loved the mysterious things
in life, the quiet and private jokes
with folks, the things we cannot see—
Twilight zone moments put that
twinkle in his eye—the unexplainable
is what made him smile.  He would
notice word-play and the deeper
humor in things, like The Far Side,
puns found here and there, or
humorous  acts of God, the
journalistic juxtaposition of
oddity with oddity, even a hint
of mystery.  He was open, and
he opened his heart to me. 
Light bulbs flicker off and on;
I cannot see him, but he is not gone.

3 comments:

Lou Faber said...

Bringing tears: of joy for loving his daughter who is so like him, and great sadness for never getting to love him as family, and yet I do.

Kim said...

No, not gone at all.... Never far from the hearts of the family who loved him so much, who carry his best qualities with them and infuse the next generation with his legacies- kindness, humor, wit, and tremendous love...

Bruce Goettel said...

What a nice neighborhood we had. Always liked your Mom + Dad. They were so very nice to us and the kids when we dropped by unexpectedly in 1995 to say hi.