That moment when we knew you were leaving us
When we knew the inevitable was truly inevitable
When we could no longer pretend to ourselves – to each other
that this moment would never come.
That’s when my heart pounded the strongest within
and the irony that yours was fading
whilst mine was ready to deafen us with its incessant pulsating
I wondered – madly – if there was only so much heart-beating allowed in this room.
Had I stolen your vitality
drained your life-force with my very presence?
I can imagine the roll of your eyes at such a flight of fancy –
you’d have given me short shrift, I know.
Vital you were, larger than life –
emotional, driven, strong, creative, brilliant
a bon-viveur
a criticiser of the establishment, yet part of the establishment yourself
a rebel with many causes
a man with fingers in pies
an instigator
a lover – women were your joy and your downfall –
a lion
a man in so many ways.
You’re gone, but still here,
in our memories, in our hearts, in our thoughts.
Ciao ciao, Dad.
Thank you for all that you were and still are.
I love you.
Tonight, Gayle is barkeep at dVerse, and is encouraging us to write an elegy, where sorrow, admiration and acceptance are to form clear parts of our writing.
Oh, I hummed and hah’d about this one. Not because it’s not a good form to write, but more because much of my writing of late has been a bit focused towards love and loss. But then I had a word with myself and decided to sup deep on the fabulous wine list the dVerse Poets’ Pub offers. I’m glad I did, because it gave me the chance to write about some (by no means all) of my dad’s good qualities that I so admire(d).
In case you are wondering about the title, my dad was awarded an OBE (Order of the British Empire) a few years ago, and it was a joke between us that if I sent him a letter or a card, it would be addressed to ‘Dad, OBE’. I was lucky enough to be at the investiture at Windsor Castle – a beautiful day.
Do give this form a try, or if you’re not feeling it, just hop on over and enjoy the many, varied and brilliant offerings of the other poets who like to rest awhile in good company.