Tuesday, August 20, 2019

A Prose Poem (phone conversation transcripted and annotated) for Tuesday

The Call; 
the beginning of an end 

(Ring, ring, ring)
Hi Jim
(Hello Dearest son)
Hi Dad
(a pause, long)
I have stopped driving
and have hung up my keys

I got lost yesterday
coming home from church
(that's only four blocks
on the same street
where he lives)

Don't worry about me
the nursing home has
a room reserved for me
(but Dad you aren't
old and 
sick enough for doing that)

I've seen it
it has room for my
dresser and recliner chair
(Oops, oops. Trouble!!)

Well Dad,
I'm sorry to hear this
Otherwise how are you feeling?

Oh. I'm doing fine,
just can't see
We ate and had a meeting
I stayed too late at church
and it was getting dark
And I'm getting more blind
(he had macular degeneration
and was living alone
since Mom had died)

(a long pause)
Well Dad,
don't move yet we are
coming up this weekend
(we want to help you out
with checking to see how
assisted living would
fit your situation)

Okay, I won't
See you soon then
_ _ _

The end here. There was a lot more happening with him over the next seven years. This might be or have been your parent(s)parents or grandparent(s) situation.

I may write more later, another day.
_ _ _

- Prose Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with Anmol (aka Ha) in the Imaginary Garden at https://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/08/the-tuesday-platform-forgetting.html?m=1

 - Dad lived seven more years, all away from his home


At Tuesday, August 20, 2019 3:30:00 PM, Blogger brudberg said...

My mother was a bit like this before she got a worse.

At Tuesday, August 20, 2019 4:37:00 PM, Blogger Sherry Blue Sky said...

He was wise and brave to hang up his keys. Many dont and are in peril on the highway. It is so hard for a senior to leave their home and move into a facility. I am glad he had such a good son to support and encourage him. Thanks for this poem, Jim.

At Wednesday, August 21, 2019 12:54:00 AM, Blogger Anmol (HA) said...

Ah, this conversation narrates your relationship with him so well — there is something so tender about it as well as about the topic thus broached. Very well penned! :-)

At Wednesday, August 21, 2019 8:55:00 PM, Blogger Margaret said...

... my dad wasn't so complying. He would just drive the lawnmower in circles... And once he got out and walked a LONG way because my mom wouldn't let him drive. It isn't any fun... sigh. Sweet poem.


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