I had enough money to pay his bills for the month
and hearing that he smiles and closes his door
After folding a lot of clothes I cleared the big table
one that had suffered years of family celebrations
Left were three khaki shirts dating back to his war
and as I hang them on the line for sunshine drying
I recall his awards of three of the big four bravery
medals but none had been pinned on a shirt of his
She died a year ago and after her funeral service he
never went out again saying his lives were complete
The old man's appetite had been off so I made for
him a supper of hot oatmeal and banana chips and
knocked on his door without an answer of any kind
He appeared to be sleeping but in his lap was a small
canister which the 9ll guys said was from the war
and wrote in their report that it smelled of poison gas
Grandpa always said that he didn't want to be a bother
to the ones he loved and who were so good to him
Sometimes you wonder if perhaps no one had made them believe they are not a bother but a joy to have in their lives.. after spending time with Mom (in law) I realize how much we need to let them know they are worth everything... anyway a beautiful but heart-tugging piece of writing...
M
Reviewed by Kathryn Collins (Reader)
Reviewed on August 11, 2007
some cannot survive certain levels of pain. "didn't want to be a bother to those who loved him" Oh the bother afterward. This is a beautifully written piece, a life lived and a life gone.
Oh Dear, This is true for me as I found my husband some years ago,They said he never recovered from a time in Nam...Moving write for many (including you) I'm sure...Thank you, Jen
Reviewed by Missy Cross (Reader)
Reviewed on August 10, 2007
What amazes me most about this piece is that in the "canister" of your lines you have captured so much of a rich life, with a poignant close.
Cold chills and warm tears flood the reader's emotion knowing that this stunning write is a real possibility for so many war veterens who served their countries and their families to the end.
... Enough is enough, but what a distressing way to end it all. It's amazing how hermetically sealed the elderly can become when they've lost the will to live. Perhaps good for them, but agonising for those who care for them. Poignant and distressing, Bill. A warrior he lived and died. Nobility was doubtless in his thoughts. Bless you, Kate xx
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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M
love,
Kathy
You've done a great job. It is a poignant work.
Fee