Misty Christmas 2008

 

May your Christmas Season, Hanukah…, & New Year be filled

With warmth, comfort, and good cheer.

 

In 08,

May your loved ones,

Wives and husbands,

Kids and grandkids,

Brothers and sisters,

Partners and special friends be near.

 

For me in 08, and maybe for some of you,

Christmas has me missing mom and dad.

So may this snow-bumped induced poem

Maybe remind you

Of your own special times and those special to you

At Christmas time.

 

Our little living room was crowded

With Christmas tree pushing

TV, couch, chair, and record player.

But even in Greater Cleveland

The living room of mom’s coucha

Was always warm.

And it always had room for me,

The family’s blockhead,

To lie on the floor.

 

Always room to lie next to my father’s chair

Where without a high school education

Our Plain Dealing newspaper delivery dad would read,

At least one newspaper every day.

 

Always room to lie at my mother’s feet,

Whenever she had  those precious few minutes,

To rest her feet on the couch.

 

Mom and dad kept the room warm.

Especially at Parma’s Christmas time.

 

I wonder if they knew

What I didn’t know at the time.

That they made it a soothing, comfortable cocoon,

From which they prepared their kid(s)

To wander our among the wonders of life.

 

First, they gifted us life.

Then they let me wander about

In a growing suburb filled with kids.

Gifting me with a second hand, fender-less Schwin bike,

And used Rawlings glove and cleats,

And coveted new Converse All Stars,

And buddies abounding

To play with year round.

And, of course, scarfs.

 

And for family vacations,

They crafted a bench

To make the backseat of dad’s old Olds,

Into one big travel bed,

From which Marlene and me

Would view America’s roads.

And always mom gently pushed books

That soon had stories of the world

Stretching beyond the roads they could travel.

 

When I left their wonderful cocoon,

They never asked for anything in return.

They never asked for me to return

To stay nearby.

They never said,

Do this or that  this way…

Now, with misty eyes, I just wonder

Did I report back enough?

Did I tell them enough of the wonders they provided me?

The wonders they worked so for

So that their kid(s) could taste

What they couldn’t…

Did I kiss and thank them enough?

Did I remind them enough…

That all my good fortunes

Ushered from around that loving, warm, little front room,

From which their simple loving ways taught me

To walk as tall and honestly as they.

 

Did I ever tell my dad?

How I’ll never forget how

How he stood up to the hoods and their fathers in court.

When pressed by a probing father of one of two of the gang leaders,

Whose gang brawl with three of us ninth graders

Caused dad to testify in court.

Pop talked in his own well-oiled gang cadence saying,

I’m just goin tell ‘em whad I saw

Ya know…Tell the truth.

What did ya wan me to do… anyway?

I think the hood’s father sensed

That dad,

With his shiny shoes and suit,

Had been a hood too.

And maybe rightly brandished as Attila II.

 

Years later,

The son of one of the two leaders of the hoods

Who grew up to be a special guy’s barber,

Was found as a bullet riddled, decaying body

In a Florida airport

In ever-missing Teamster Jimmy Hoffa’s trunk.

 

Did I tell my mom often enough?

How years had proven

She was always right.

How every word she uttered

Brought a smile to my heart and soul.

And how right she was in saying,

After the stroke she battled back from,

“You’re going to miss me one of these days.”

 

No.

I didn’t tell them enough.

And it makes me misty now.

So if you have parents or special loved ones

Rumble around in your memory

And tell them what’s on your mind,

Especially at Christmas time.

 

May you have all that’s important during the Christmas Time and in the New Year.

 

Dwayne