Existence

...never really ends.

My father passed from this life just before the pandemic was declared, making most nursing homes inaccessible to the public. He was only in one because at 96, he’d taken a fall down his cellar steps to a concrete floor, while living independently as had been his fierce choice. But it wasn’t that Dad had sustained serious injuries. He was far too tough for that, no, fluid taken from a lung had shown some form of cancer had invaded, probably from chemicals he’d worked with in the later stages of his life.

Dad never had to witness the devastation caused by the fear and manipulation or the intensity of the controversy that would follow, and he never expected his life to end.

And it never really did. Or will.

Existence

It’s odd, I think, how it came to be.

The wind is back, it’s rustling leaves,

The beauty of the Earth displayed

Beneath high window, now surveyed

By the Queen of All. She’s very small,

Some might think, not a queen at all,

But she knows better, as do I

She purrs approval, expels a sigh.

You see, my father passed away

His spirit resides in Heaven today,

The things he owned are here, with me.

His home, his plants, beloved trees,

Still there but gone, sold to another

He’s left to be with our sweet mother,

But possessions overflow their bounds

Within my home. You see it sounds

Far better than it looks.

Boxes of maybe, pictures and books

Now stacked atop my upper stair;

With no more space, I put them there.

‘Twas a wonderful place for a kitty to go.

When she found that spot, she watched it snow

Trees bent by the wind, the very same one

That today moves greenery, dappled in sun...

And the window is open. Let’s see, did I mention

Surveying a queendom means constant attention

To birds, and squirrels, and bees, and such

And allows little time for else of much.

By now I’ve forgotten what’s in the stack.

I’m sure my Dad won’t need it back,

But a sweet li’l kitty, her world expanded

Fully approves of where it landed.

So for now, or forevermore,

In that same spot those things I’ll store.

Dad might not approve, but it’s really okay

Earthly decisions, behind him today

I can’t say the same, can’t ask what to do

Or how I should feel that his life is through

Though he can still see, and truly, just fine.

When I open my eyes, he sees through mine.