where the writers are
we will walk together through the meadows
the meadows in Augustow - photo by Bozena Intrator

Every year at Christmas I feel sad in the back of my head and in a corner of my soul because I miss my father who died many years ago, being to young to die. Today I received a message from a very talented poet form Ireland about his saying goodbye to his father and I realized that at Christmas - when the families gather together and the ones who died are not there many of us miss them more intense than usually and think about the last moments with them:

 

We will walk together through the meadows

It was a beautiful summer day
late June
the air was full of flowers smells
my father said with a quite voice:
“Next year we will walk together
hand in hand
through the meadows by the lake Necko
and breath in beautiful smells of flowers”
My heart jumped
the doctors decided not to tell my father
that he has only a little piece of his lungs left
and not more than 2 weeks life
“Why don’t you have flowers in your hair
like you used to when you lived here?”
asked my father
“Next year you will pick the flowers for me,
like you used to”
I answered
He took my hand
and I pulled myself together
in order not let the tears out
I tried to remember the warmth of his hand forever
his face looked so young,
wrinkleless
like 20 years ago
when I was his little girl
doctors say that that happens sometimes
short before the end
patients start to look young again
“And we will take the boat and go fishing,
remember? You were 6 when you caught your first fish”
I looked in his dark blue eyes
the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen
and realized that he knows everything
he is trying to help me
and is asking for help
I smiled
“Yes, that was the only fish we caught that day,
you didn’t caught any”
my father smiled back
and pressed my hand tighter
“I was wrong to tell you what to do,
I think you know the best,
get divorced,
always do,  what you feel you need to”
I told him laughing,
That I needed to get something to drink
And run out fast
cried outside the clinic
loud and long
wondering why the sky is so shameless blue
why the sun is shining
and nobody is telling me how to let go…

Bozena Intrator

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lonesome at christmas

your writing is so open and heartfelt

this past christmas i was in the middle of a family (my husband's) & i still felt the loss of my parents, especially my father, who
passed on when i was just in my early 20s.
the emptiness is like pressure on a bruise at those times, because when you see children (adult children) who have both parents & all their siblings, you want to shake a finger in their face & say
"appreciate what is near you." recently i read a book in which
the writer said her friend, who was dying, told her he thought the world would be such an amazing place if people each wore little
signs around their necks that said "soon i will die" because everyone treats someone who they know is dying with more compassion than we otherwise summon.
okay, too long a comment & we haven't met. good luck with all your
poetry collections & readings. i hope they bring you great fullfillment. glad you are at red room.

~ jan godown annino

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thank you for really reading my blog entry

I am sorry that I didn't answer right the way but I don't look lately into my account since I am working with a vocalist on his CD (I am writing lyrics for him) and this is very time consuming.
(I love it though).
So you also have lost your father in your early 20s... Just like me. And my mom is there but not really since she has the Alzheimer disease.
Yes - when I see people surrounded by their families and not really caring about them I feel that someone should show them their future for a moment - they should see how they would feel after their parents will pass away...

I hope that we will stay in touch,

greetings,

Bozena