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Monday, March 30, 2015

sunset for my father

this poem was chosen by the family to be on Dad's funeral bulletin. it was one of his favourites. 


Crossing the Bar

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
Sunset and evening star, 
      And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar, 
      When I put out to sea, 

   But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 
      Too full for sound and foam, 
When that which drew from out the boundless deep 
      Turns again home. 

   Twilight and evening bell, 
      And after that the dark! 
And may there be no sadness of farewell, 
      When I embark; 

   For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place 
      The flood may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face 
      When I have crost the bar.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

My dad died.

cold words, like ice on my tongue-
I've waited years to say them.

So when he died, I felt denial.
Then relief.
Then denial.

I shouted to my sister on the phone,
“how? I just got an update about him
and he was fine!
How? When? But he was fine…”

Then I felt weird, like a piece of the world was missing.

Over the days I alternate between these 2 emotions-
Relief and denial-
And I walk around saying to random people,
“my dad died”,
as if that would make it real.

It hasn’t.



How can he be gone?

This huge piece of me,
My father,
Is no longer here.

The dark world that he lived in molded mine-
The night became familiar.

The universe I arrived in so many years ago,
Has changed, has shrunk.
there is no one left to shape me, to scold me,
to spark in sudden anger.
my primary critic is gone.

My heart hurts, and i feel
As if someone reached into my chest
And plucked out a piece of it.

My eyes ache with unshed tears.
I do not know why they are unshed.
They won’t come
Even when I beg them to.

Maybe tomorrow I will cry.


My dad died.