This is Father's Day 19 since my father passed away in his 67th year. This has Pink Floyd's 'Time' song stuck in my head for the second time in a month...
Sweepings of The Street
Mostly fictional ramblings and assorted thoughts that fell from my head to languish in a journal or on a scrap of paper until I finally swept them up and dumped them here for safekeeping.
Sunday, June 16, 2019
19 Father’s Days Have Got Behind Me...
Saturday, January 23, 2016
Until Death Do Us Part... that was the plan anyway.
January 23, 2016
Until Death Do Us Part... that was the plan anyway
It’s his birthday.
He’s meeting his girls. They are his life.
He cares about nothing else really.
Not anymore.
Ping. He reads the text message.
It wasn’t unexpected.
Even so, he’s disappointed. Again.
He feels his chest tighten. Just a bit.
His heart aches. Quite a bit.
But it always does these days.
She can’t make it after all.
She said, another time…soon.
He tells himself, again, that he is losing her.
But he won’t blame her. He can’t.
It is he who failed her.
His youngest daughter. His baby.
She is slipping away.
He doesn't know what to do.
He doesn't want to lose her.
But he doesn't deserve her either.
He feels that same guilt with all his girls.
Ever since their mother left him.
Something he still doesn't fully understand.
She thought he didn’t change at all in thirty years.
He thought she had changed too much.
Probably, they are both right.
But it was her choice.
She drew first blood.
She pulled the plug on thirty years.
Yet he is alone with the guilt.
He doesn’t see that changing.
He doesn’t want it to. He's deserves the guilt.
He failed their marriage, somehow.
And so he failed his daughters.
He should have seen it coming.
He should have fought to keep her.
Truth? He didn’t want to…
She was no longer the person he married.
He didn’t know her anymore. At all.
She turned cold. So cold. At least toward him.
In the end. The last few years. She played him.
He let her. He didn’t care anymore.
And they went their separate ways.
And all their lives changed. Forever.
One in-law said the whole family died after that.
He agrees.
And so now the guilt.
He reads the text one last time.
Replies that it’s ok. Adds a few hearts. Send.
Except it’s not ok. He’s not ok.
And he doesn't want to be. Doesn't deserve to be.
But if he could give her peace of mind, that was something.
So he lies. And he plays happy.
His other daughters are all there
His granddaughters as well.
And he knows how lucky he is. How blessed he is.
Still, his heart is heavy.
The absence of one reminds him how he has failed them all.
Even so he plays happy. For everyone.
They deserve happiness even if he doesn’t.
Then he drives home. In silence.
Always in silence.
He can feel the ache. The sadness.
He hurts always. Nothing else seems real to him.
Except the hurt. The hurt is real.
Hurt is how he knows he’s alive.
On the outside looking in.
At his family. At his life.
That is now his future.
People tell him to move on.
And he agrees that he should.
He needs to forgive her.
He needs to forgive himself.
But he can’t. Her betrayal cut too deep.
It’s a hurt he needs.
Besides, move on to what?
He only wanted one thing. That is gone.
So he lives one day at a time.
He has his memories.
He wants nothing else.
Except to hurt. He wants that. Needs that.
--------------------------------
Ping. He wipes away the tears.
Reads the new message.
It’s her. A new friend.
This friend’s spouse left her also.
She is alone. Heartbroken. Hurt.
Again, decades thrown away.
Family betrayed. Children betrayed.
Same story, different names.
She asks, are you okay?
I’m fine thanks, he lies. And she knows he’s lying.
How are you? he asks. Hours later, still no reply.
He knows it’s because she won’t lie.
He knew she wasn’t ok when he asked.
Like him, she will always ache.
She wants her sadness too.
Like him, she has earned it.
They both believe in wedding vows.
’Til death do us part.
For better or worse.
They both believe in God.
They both feel abandoned.
They both believe in soulmates and eternity.
And they both lost all of that.
They both ache with guilt.
Like him, she plays happy for her children.
She will keep her sadness, her guilt.
He will keep his sadness, his guilt.
They are trying to connect. To move on.
Neither know how. Neither really want to.
But they don’t know how to let go either.
Letting go was never part of who they are.
Giving up wasn’t the plan.
Death do us part. That was the plan.
So both will remain alone. Perhaps always.
But maybe, one day, they will find happiness through their sadness.
And, maybe, one day, they will learn to forgive and to live.
But not this day.
This day they will hurt.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
a bit of prose — small child
He is a small child. Even to himself he feels small. Everything seems to loom down from above. Outside, the few steps to the sidewalk seem like a cliff, a steep cliff. The steps touch one side of the sidewalk, the roadway the other. Cars whiz past not ten feet from his seat on the top step. Walking up the narrow street the row houses tower over him on both sides. All are old and shabby looking. Even as a boy he can feel the dullness of this street, And to the boy, the neighbourhood is this street. This street is his whole life. And there are no trees, no flowers, no living thing. Not until the street ends with the paved school years at one end. To the side of that yard there are a few scarce trees. Tree that are thinner than the boy.
Thinking back on this childhood moment brings forth no bursts of colour. Only black and white, and grey. Lots of grey. There’s no memory of the sun shining. The only thing that has colour is the brown leather barber’s strap. There was a big man in the house. He held the strap and smacked it on his hand constantly. Walking back and forth behind the boys on the couch. Threatening, begging for a reason to use it on them…any reason will do. There was no movement, no sound. There was only fear.
lines from lyrics — C. Vasik
Breaks these chains.
On the run from everyone
Take me to the healing well
It’s gonna get cold soon
Just when it’s handled, it ain’t handled anymore
I’ll know happy when I get there
Stone cold afraid of himself
Can’t find another direction
It’s more than I’m willing to pay
You’re already digging the hole
Bang that drum a whole lot faster
Beg for mercy and you make a deal
If I leave, I’m dirty water
It ain’t so easy
Throw me a smile cuz it really makes a difference
Doing my best but it really does matter
Wash me in the perfect rain
notes taken December 30, 2015
a few lines — still holding on
I remember all my life...
I see memories in the eyes of people as they pass by...
I’m still holding on...
There ain’t much left of me...
January 5, 2016
Unfinished Poem — I lose myself
I lose myself and time
in a mind that drifts along.
There’s no reason or rhyme
when you search for where you belong.
I’m adrift in a river of hope
that flows through and endless sea.
Only memories to help me cope
until my journey sets me free.
January 2, 2016
Saturday, January 09, 2016
a few lines — pulling at my heart
Life is pulling at this heart of mine.
It seems to feel another’s pain all the time.
December 11, 2015