One of Those Interesting Moments

A little while ago I was rocking my son to sleep.  Even though I'm not a singer, I usually sing a little song until he falls asleep.  Tonight's choice was Randy Newman's "I Will Go Sailing No More".  Yes, that is the song from Toy Story, and believe it or not, a very effective lullaby.  But this is no a post about effective lullabies.  It's about dormant emotions.

You see, it's been a little over a year now, since my father passed.  Grief is a tricky thing, and to say that we ever completely deal with death is a bit naive.  Some days are better than others.  And in some instances, it all comes rushing back.  As I sat there, watching my son sleep, I felt this overwhelming sense of regret.  I wish my son had gotten to know my father a lot better, and had been able to learn all the things he taught me.  I will do my best to teach him these things, but I'm sad he won't get to know the source.

I wish I had gotten to know my father better.  For over 28 years I was blessed to have him, and yet I still wish there were questions I could have asked him, moments that we could have shared.  Mostly, I just miss his laughter.  His voice.  Him being here.

But, as I continued to watch my son sleep, I realized something, that really helped with the grief.  My father's spirit will live on.  Passed on through me, and my siblings, and carried on by our children.  Knowing this makes it a little bit less likely I will cry.  It makes it easier to smile, though I am sad.

And that is a beautiful thing.

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet

Guess I Needed to Vent

Chasing Cars

Just an hour ago, you left my driveway

and I can still feel your

sharp right turn

it feels perpendicular to apology

parallel to too many words left on

waiting tongues

your speed overwhelms like February

because something always happened in

February, and when you

vanish, your presence is

red taillights and unsung whispers
old photographs and
hand against skin,

my heartbeat unsteady

reminding me of August

one too many summers

found me ready to leave

and now absent

my heart thaws

like winter

[End Poem]

......(there's nothing else I can say)

Marcus Jamison, the Rare Poet