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
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
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
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