perhaps this father’s day means more to me
because two of the three men i spent my early years with are dead,
my two youngest brothers.
when my brother stephen last visited, i wrote quite a lot.
i hadn’t journaled in a long time but the words just came.
know that the talk of death is largely due to the anniversary of my “baby” brother’s death,
and our family got together in the pacific northwest just after that yahrzeit.
“when he dies,
the closest person to my dad will die
but he’s not, he’s better,
big brother and dad rolled into one.
i shared him with my niece only because
i love her too, the kid —
i used to be the kid but now there are new kids, and i’m an old folk.
i am worried about how long he’ll be
and i want him all for me.
he was the one i told everything to
you don’t do that with a dad
the one who could fix it all
tell you all about men and sex on the old brick fireplace or
influence your choice in wearing your hair up
because he valued a woman’s simple beauty or
save your life in bug-infested florida or
know where you should buy your first set of tires sears of course or
hand you your whole spiritual path in a small stack of books
watts suzuki kaplan.
hard to let him go back to the man he loves
i want to be selfish
there is the 4-year-old wrapped around his air-force-uniform clad kneecaps
face buried in hard cloth
unwilling to let go for him to live a fulfilling life of his own
wanting him all for me, my rock.
twins, energetically generalissimo
philosophically zennies to the core
logical and artistic
soft-hearted too, conundrum
lovers of rain storm weather beach wildflowers
hands face hair stick straight, smith family
courage, strength, willingness to move forward in adversity.
i come back to zen mind,
back to my foot on the path.
i can only be present for the now of this time in our lives
but i am making sure i tell him daily in the im we leave open on our puters 24/7
hello huggs g’nite huggs luv u huggs.”
© D.Katie Powell 2013