Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Fractured Relations - part two

Convocation day.
I invited both Mom and Dad,
knowing it would be awkward
but not really caring;
I wanted them both to be there,
so they could both be proud of their son.

Zaidy John came with Dad,
Mom came separately.

as we walked,
I felt torn inside,
wanting to address them both together
but not believing that I could.
Hugs and pictures for both,

Zaidy John sat with Mom
as they talked, probably about
Bubbie Blemah and her worsening Alzheimer’s,
and I talked with Dad,
answering questions succinctly.

I sat there, feeling disoriented, and watched us
as if from an outside perspective,
perceiving a barrier between family,
as if some cruel hand had shattered the rigid bonds
that once held us all together.

“It’s funny how things turn out,”
Mom said to me once,
“Life is strange.”
“It’s not strange or funny,”
I replied,
“it’s just the way it is.”

It’s just the way it is
and only God knows why.

But my family didn’t die;
it broke and then transformed,
like roots breaking off a plant
and sprouting anew,
like a love fractured at its core,
fragments drifting apart into different horizons,
held together only by the sight
of fading memories
and living again in the breaths
of altered lives.

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