Sunday, June 15, 2008

Last Big Show



Dear readers,
Happy Father's Day! I'm posting a poem in honor of my father, almost four years into the next life, the other world, and yet still very much in my heart. Happy Sunday to all! Am way behind on all correspondence -- will catch up by the end of the week, God willing!





Last Big Show

On his last morning, my father drives
himself to work, tired from a two-week
air-plane sales show. Even so, he listens
to Fleetwood Mac on the cd player, turned
up loud. Before he leaves, he writes on the dry-
erase board -- Good to be home! Last big
show. Days later, picking through the debris
for what was his, almost nothing remains
except the battered rims of his sunglasses,
a pocket knife. My sister identifies the face
of the watch his friend, the pilot, wore,
still working. It’s like an advertisement,
we think, this three thousand dollar
extravagance that lasted through a final
confrontation with a power line and all
that charred earth. The evidence bag of dirt
and litter yields nothing more, just this -- small
unconvincing proof that time has not stopped.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

He lives on through you. RIP, Mr. Brooks.--Leo Buscaglia

John Ricci said...

Dearest Michelle
Lovely views and humorous vigorous posts as always. I appreciate and wonder at your talents and so appreciate your salute to your father which reminds me to always be on hand for my son and his backyard barcbecues here in wonderful Michigan. Champagne wishes and caviar dreams dear girl and a salute to your wonderful father and a sad Bravo!

laughingwolf said...

sorry for your loss, hon... my dad died just this past february

as father of three, had great day, thx :)

Brian in Mpls said...

I can remember my mom handing me my fathers watch when I was ten. An envelop of personal effects. My last present from him wrapped in the twisted metal of his car.

chris said...

Lost mine in early Dec, 93 . He comes to mind quite often, sometimes a smile, sometimes it is sadness. They were a major influence in our lives.

I truly beleive he pointed us to his grave site, where a head stone of someones said, Miss me but let me go. You could not the miss seeing the Headstone even if you tried. It is excatly what he would of said if he were still here.

Gone but never forgoten they are, We should be so lucky.

Charles Gramlich said...

Wow. Very powerful. It resonates with me, although my father died in a very different way.

the walking man said...

Never knew my father...lived with him for 17 years and never knew the guy. *shrug* it be that way at times, my 3 kids may say the same thing one day.

1 face to face, a card and two phone calls. It was a better day than most.

if I make it past 61 I will have outlived mine and have extra time to torture my kids...things to look for on succeeding fathers days.

Maybe would have been different if mine had big shows to remember him by, but yours traveled and at the least was loved. Nothing to regret there. Good job kid.