Ides of December

[Darth Eggplant]

december 15th, 1985

the day I learnt the reality

of my own mortality,

the day my father died.

I was just 23 years old.

I want to tell you of that night;

yet in order to do so,

I must first tell you

of myself and this man.

 

My father was born before

'The Great Depression'

as was my mother;

those were very different times

then the ones we live in today.

As children they did not have

X-Box, they were lucky if

they had food in their ice box.

My parents were young adults

during world war II

they were Swing Kids,

Big Band and Bebopping

their way into Suburbia

and the 50's

the Golden Age of

Baby Boomers.

They settled nicely into

the 'American Dream'

a home, picket fence,

dog and 2.3 children.

(I was the decimal point,

the Anomoly of their equation)

My father was a working man.

He was the salt of the earth

and the meat and potatoes

of his dining room.

He enjoyed watching sports

while drinking a beer

after a hard days work.

My father was not a tyrant,

he was not king of his castle,

he helped wash the dishes

each night with my mom,

so that they could spend

quality time with each other.

I understood my parents completely;

because I grew up watching them

watch the Brady's and Cleavers on TV.

 

However...they watched me grow up

watching the Addams and Munsters.

(and they simply could not relate).

 

Now I was born in the early 60's

Where was I when Kennedy was assassinated?

I watched The Beatles live

on the Ed Sulivan Show.

I watched Star Trek

when it wasn't a repeat.

If my parent had been flower children;

I would have been seven at Woodstock.

I saw the first man on the moon.

Malcom X,

and I sat front row

when Pink Floyd's "The Wall"

made it's cinematic release.

 

And yet...

through all my formitable years of Nesting,

I conformed almost flawlessly; (almost)

to my parents Sophistries and Ideologies.

I wore the department store clothes

they chose for me.

I brushed my teeth after each meal,

went to church on sunday,

always had fish on friday,

looked both ways before crossing the street.

And yet...

well my parents always said,

my dad did anyhow,

"when you grow up

and reach 18

you'll be an adult,

and then if you want to

live your life

you can,

and I won't stop you,

because you'll be an adult.

BUT until then..."

(well I think you know the drill)

 

And so at 18 I came of age,

and my father Could Not Comprehend me.

 

And So The Rift between Us began.

 

I grew up not liking sports.

I did not own a car.

(I have never even had a drivers licence.)

I never wanted to learn to smoke.

I do not like coffee.

I don't like beer.

(or alcohol)

I embraced Spirituality,

while turning my back on Rome.

I don't own a gun.

I have never voted.

and yet the greatest sins

I committed would be:

my single silver hoop earing;

and becoming a vegetarian for 2 years.

 

My brothers drank too much,

gambled excessively,

and treated women poorly.

My father did not approve

of such behaviour

as he did not raise us

to behave that way.

And yet...sad to say,

such behaviour 'Was'

and still 'Is'

considered

Socially Tolerable

and within the realms

of acceptable society.

 

1984 changed everything for my family.

And would for the rest of all our lives.

My father was diagnosed with cancer.

They operated and felt confident they got it all;

They did not.

And my fathers mood and spirit and health

deteriated day after day.

I worked afternoons and nights,

so I could be with him during the daytime,

in case he needed anything.

However we did not talk all that much,

so I don't know what comfort or support

either one of us were to each other.

 

1985 saw his health worsen

and he became hospitalized.

I continued working afternoons

so I could go to the hospital each day.

And I sat there for many hours,

days, months and eternities,

just so if he needed anything,

I could be there for him.

 

But the rift between us

had grown so much over the years.

 

we did not argue or fight,

I understoood him,

but I could not be

something I was not.

And he did not understand me,

and could not pretend,

and did not want to try.

 

And then one night we all visited,

and he was in good spirits.

He seemed happy,

my family left feeling optomistic.

I knew I was seeing the end.

 

And early the next morning,

the hospital called.

And in midnight black,

of early december snowfall,

we headed to the hospital;

only to arrive too late.

My father was dead.

It was December 15th, 1985.

 

In his dying moments

he asked a nurse

for pen and paper.

On that paper,

he told my mother he loved her.

He then wrote to my eldest sister

and wished her health and happiness.

Then he wrote to my older brother

words of wisdom and encouragement.

My father then wrote to my youngest brother

wishing him long life and prosperity.

and then... the ink,

like his blood stopped flowing.

my father was dead.

I never got to say goodbye.

He did not mention me at all.

 

Jacob Marley was as dead as a doornob,

(and so is my father)

It has been 18 long years since

that Ides of December.

I have to live constantly with;

did his strength fail him?

Or did he have nothing to say to me?

Today, this Christmas, before the New Year;

Reach out to your friends & family,

make peace with them.

I walk the earth,

especially at this festive time of year;

weighed down by the chains of 'Regrets',

'What If's' and 'Uncertainty'

Do not suffer my fate.

[ET Warrior]

That's some deep stuff eggy.

 

 

(I dont even mind you posted it in verse this time )

 

Edit- almost forgot man, here's a hug from me *hug*

[Guest Jed]

I'm terribly sorry, Eggy.

 

*hugs*

 

Take it easy, bud.

[ZBomber]

Thanks for sharign that with us, Eggy.

 

*hugs you*

[•-BLaCKouT-•]

You cool Eggplant.

 

At least you understand your confusion, even if you haven't mastered it yet.

That's more than most of us have got.

 

Have a peaceful Holiday.

 

B.