who knew…

who is remembered, lives!

A year ago this morning at 9:03 my dear dad passed away… he died in his 97th year.  I wrote about my experience last year in this post last September, just before his birthday…

image: ‘dad’s death mask’ © 2024 art by weaver…

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a year already and i have so many mixed feelings about it all… his life’s journey and his dying.  I really don’t know what to think or feel about it so have been attempting to write some words… a poem perhaps.. a work in progress i’m sure… here’s just some of my reflections that have popped up or out of nowhere over this past year… not sure if any of them make any sense, though do they have to? x (((💜)))

who knew

hey dad
my adoptive dad
you worked hard 
every bit of it
every minute 
you were here 
on your blessed earth 
walk

something drove you
so damn hard
cuz some stupid peer 
told you from the get go
that you’d never make it
on that piece of crap land
you declared back, ‘watch me’

we watched you

and you know what dad?
you did make it 
and so much more
though i don’t think
you ever felt that way that
you just kept going
and going

even though you stopped retired
you kept going
keeping a daily keen eye on that
ticker tape racing streaming by
your make it 
grew and grew

you did have loads of fun driving
with your beloved in your
treasured mighty home on wheels
as far as you could roll
many travels by road and sky

but did you make a plan Stan?
nope

though who knew

later one day
you’d find yourself
in a locked dementia unit
right at covid time
terrified bewildered spinning
lost forever and ever and ever
stripped stark
every thing you knew

of all those things 
you worked so hard for
gone

your cherished sparkly ring
pulled off squirrelled away
proud black dress shoes
taken such good care of
over 35 years
cuz they fit you like a glove
swapped with velcro

can’t even imagine
your terrorized reality
you didn’t belong 
here

you cried and cried
and fought and fought
pleaded tears streaming down
falling

clasping both our hands
so tight you couldn’t let go
oh we didn’t want to let go
at all

i’m sorry we couldn’t bring you
your shot gun dad
we just couldn’t
you pleaded

so hard so fucking hard
our broken hearts undone
we had to let our hands go
so sorry trembling
beyond our control
unfathomable

keeping touch as best we could
mostly through screen times
face-time
or gloved goggled and
masked
though you did
know who we were
til you didn’t

they even lost
your hearing aids
then your only set of teeth 
gawd
no longer hearing
comprehending
nor could i understand your
talking 
no more

though our hearts knew
and i think your heart knew too
something

i remember more than once
sitting within silence along with you
screen to screen
not forcing anything hello
other than just be with you
being

i witnessed your journeying
somewhere beyond way beyond
betwixt and between
until you would
bit by bit would roll a snail’s drive
a slow gradual out of screen’s sight

then i would
know your unknowing
cue
was your
long
excruciatingly slow
silent
loving
goodbye


thank you 
dear dad for you 
for every thing 
you worked so hard
for

i hope you know
how well you are loved

who is remembered, lives!


—carol weaver © 2024

miss ya like stink dear dad… rest in power!