No one ever looks inside it, not even me. We can't let Grace know about em, or they'll crumble into dust from whence they came.
I keep a few of my dad's old glasses in there.
My dad was a fine fellow when he was alive. Here are some qualities I remember about him:
-Brutally blunt
-Knew each of his 6 children very well. Predicted my speechless brother David would murder everyone in the middle of the night. Instead, David murdered himself at age 28 with Elavil.
-Very organized
-Fearless - once a tough-looking black guy at The Now and Then Shop, dad's store, stole some balloons and dad made him give em back
-He'd always pick me up when it snowed to take me where I wanted to go. Good driver cuz he was from high-snowing Cleveland, as we all were.
-Was very proud of each of his kids. He used to brag to people that I was a breastfeeder.
The purpose of this blog is to photograph my dad's glasses before they sail off to Uganda. Now there's a poem waiting, don't ya think?
Here's an old poem I wrote about my dad's glasses, for pete's sakes.
HIZZONER'S GLASSES
on the yahrzeit of my father's death
it wouldn't be fair to call you vain
you wore your hair short
so women would not think
of running their fingers through it
but did anyway
a master of disguise
you never showed your
freckled arms
beneath your proud uniform
of suit and tie of the day
o refugee from
a barefoot childhood of
torn pants and never
a bicycle of your own
nor did you think to
remove your eyeglasses
to show your keen eyes -
how they swept across a room
unbeheld
gleaning grains of knowledge
free to the daring observer
eyeglasses
at rest on ears like
succulent apricots
not like now
when they are no longer seen
nor used as cushions as
they were back then
to rest those very same
eyeglasses I hold now
in my hand
who deemed it thus
that eyeglasses
desk chairs with arms
Country Squire station wagons
and Schaeffer fountain pens with
refillable ink bladders
are all that's left
after the man is gone?
Ruth, this is great stuff. The first line of the poem particularly resonates with me.
ReplyDeletethanks, allan. i know your dad recently passed, a very sad time for you. btw, my brother i mentioned above, was dev'ly challenged like yours, but, unlike your bro, lived a very unhappy life.
ReplyDeleteThis is a super poem, as well as an entertaining post. Poetry getting better and better and better, my dear! As you can see, I didn't go have my iced vanilla chai yet, because I am mesmerized, here at your blog.
ReplyDeletewhy thank you my dear. now.... drink!
ReplyDelete