I Will Have Played My Part
by Kevin Cooper
I was carried in a womb
Born in a place
Built upon a street
In a town
Of a shire
In my country
On an island
Broken away from a continent
Of this world
This solar system
Belonging to a galaxy…
(Continue Reading: I Will Have Played My Part)
Note from Louise: I wrote this after my beloved grandfather passed away last year. He had a high-grade glioma (brain tumour) and died peacefully at home after being nursed by my mum for several weeks. After writing about him a little yesterday, I wanted to share.
by Louise at Minimal Belle
I cleaned out my grandparents’ garage today,
to make room
for my mother’s things–
two double beds, bluish-black sofas,
antique dresser units,
all of the cumbersome kitchen essentials.
I tried to be ruthless, without throwing away anything of importance.
But is an old red petrol can not important,
given the circumstances?
Seven months ago he left,
never seeing the temperate last few days
His navy-handled shears still hang on the wall,
beside the old club cricket bat
and the Christmas wreath that my mother
crafted from his coffin flowers.
The garage was cold and blowing dust
this afternoon, on account of
the last gasps of the Atlantic storm.
Life and death cannot, by wishing,
nor by the desperate wrenching
of the galaxies, be separated.
They are strangers inhabiting the same house…
The once-gleaming fountain in the middle of the yellowed lawn
is grey and stained. The garden is not large,
but she doesn’t walk that far anymore. The shallow steps are too much to manage.
In the rusted rainwater of his fountain there are brown leaves, curled
like arthritic fingers or tiny, sunken pirate ships
in a long-abandoned game….
(Continue reading: Minimal Belle)
Sunset near my parent’s home
This summer has been a busy one and finally it’s time for a break. I’m headed to the high desert of western Colorado to visit the folks, help with chores, go over paperwork with my dad, and talk talk and talk with my mom who is blind and loves to fill her hours with visiting. We’ll spend several days organizing stuff, a favorite pastime for both of them.
The last time I was there, I helped pack up the house for an imminent move to Oregon to be closer to family (me), and then my parents wouldn’t move because they didn’t want to uproot the cats. My dad will want to do something adventurous like driving out into the backcountry and getting the car stuck in a gully. And I’ll probably clean the refrigerator, among other things.
The folks don’t have WiFi, and in their little town there aren’t any cafes where I can hang out for hours and blog, so I’m going to be incommunicado for a couple weeks. It’s an opportunity to focus on my parents, a daughterly must especially now that they’ve reached their mid-eighties and health concerns intensify. I plan to write but will limit my fantasy forays to early mornings before they’re up, nap times, and after they’ve gone to bed. It’s all good, all part of life.
I don’t plan to post and won’t be able to visit blogland to peruse your wonderful posts or respond to random likes, comments, and follows. I’ll catch up when I return to the best of my ability.
Have a lovely couple weeks. Enjoy the beautiful changing of the seasons. Make time for the ones you love. “See” you when I get back.
The folks, last summer