Death & Loveby
dewedComment by KaDi: David,
You asked for response to your photo and a little help in getting through the holiday season. I printed out your photo and have looked at it every day waiting for the right words to come to me. I had a title for my poem from the first time I saw your image and request. The poem is written. I hope you find something in it that will be of comfort to you.
This Is Not How I Remember You
I remember how you made me toast and jam,
How you held my hand steady in yours
And taught me to spread it to the edges.
How together we poured a drink of milk
From the glass bottle with the paper cap,
Your hand, stronger than mine.
I remember how you dressed me in red,
Pulling the wool mittens over my fingers,
Snugging the knit cap over my ears
And kissed my forehead by the door.
I swore I'd remove them before I got to school.
I remember I forgot to take them off.
I remember the expectation in your eyes
As I pulled the ribbon off the gift,
Your hope, even though you'd wrapped it yourself.
Your hands warmly grasping my shoulders from behind,
A Gentle power willing me to be sucessful,
Never purshing, only holding me against retreat.
I remember everything, the tucking ins,
the shouting outs, and chores.
Your choices and mine in disagreement,
Leaving you for friends and school,
the summer swimming pool and jobs.
How we diverged and came together.
I remember when you called and told me
You could not hold me back from what I did not want
To hear, from what you did not want to say.
Staying distant from the news of old names
Settling into that comfortable chair you gave me,
My first apartment, a retreat from growing older.
I remember holidays and visits, coming home
Hoping you'd like my friends and accept
The gifts we brought, the way we dressed,
The things we had to say, the leaving and
The promises we made to stay
In touch over years and miles.
You will not remember all the prayers you taught me,
How often I have said them in your name,
The cups of coffee sipped in waiting,
The quiet solitude of a chair in a busy room
As nurses come and go and murmur wishes,
The light outside the window on an otherwise fine day.
This is not how I remember you.
Our dance, a struggle to hold on
Through the pain, expectation in my eyes,
My hands firm upon your shoulders,
Not pushing, not holding on, trying
To be steady, spreading our lives to the edges.
Blessings to you and yours,
--Kadi 
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