Tag Archives: reconciliation

Cheers

 

IMG_0149I never got drunk with my father,
never got to count each little blessing
as it was poured, shared and savored;
never journeyed with him through
relaxed, wisdom and laughter
to solemn, soused and sleeping it off.
We never took that first shot and
looking at each other smiled
and agreed that it wasn’t half bad
that one wasn’t, not-at-all/at-all:
feels good, have another, ‘think I will.
He was proud of that, oddly—
blue collar Irish, you appreciate
a son who swears off the drink.
Still, we never poured ourselves into
each other’s glasses and now
that he’s gone—it’s me now,
I’m no longer so sure we shouldn’t
have shared that close a misery,
at least once.

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My conversion to the Baha’i  Faith caused my father, who was a devout Catholic, a terrible degree of pain and worry. And although it was never a contentious point between us, he never accepted my choice and was always, even if reconciled to it, saddened by it.

But if there was any silver lining to my decision for him, it was the Baha’i law about not drinking alcohol. My father knew and saw too many good men and women (many from our families) slide down that hole of excess and misery.

In any event, it’s too late now…

Thank you for reading Cheers. I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain, and as always, I look forward to your comments.

The photograph was taken at Newport, RI at one of the once stately homes of the rich that is now merely the gawking place of us lower castes.  It is, I am guessing, a representation of Bacchus, the Roman god of wine and drinking, although I am by no means an expert on such things. To see my photography blog, please visit the Book of Bokeh.

john

Photograph, poem and notes © John Etheridge; all rights reserved. The poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original written work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © John Etheridge,  https://bookofpain.wordpress.com. The photograph is not licensed for use in any way without the expressed consent of its creator.

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Too close for comfort

It’s not just a word, it’s a gulf,
not just a step but a fall.
And it’s not just a touch, it’s a life,
a life to be lived when it’s gone.
So rue us for being us
with our hearts bound so long ago
and our coffee made more bitter
with tears: too proud to remember,
too silly to forget
and too us to understand.
Rue us.

Thank you for reading Too close for comfort. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it and I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain. As always, I look forward to your comments.

john

© 2012 by John Etheridge; all rights reserved. This poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © 2012 by John Etheridge, https://bookofpain.wordpress.com.

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Filed under Poetry