not until
   not so long ago
I recognized
that saying thanks
   only with wordless deeds and gestures
may not be enough

we need to
   hear
GRATITUDE  
spoken out loudly
   in words

silent appraisal
   is not enough
   over time

so I speak out
in deep appreciation
   of your hard work
   to make us
   stay together
against tall centrifugal forces
the division of
   distance and time
   distress and separation
   barriers of the quotidian
   multiple obligations

I thank you
   for being with me

even at times
   when you are almost
beside yourself

I thank you
   for being with me
and being you

         * *

when the telephone rang
at six in the morning
four days before Christmas Eve
   I knew
things were not right

they told me
   my father had died
   at three in the morning
   and would I please come by
   arrange for the burial
   and collect his belongings
at the senior citizens home
where he had spent
the last four years
of his life

they had rested him nicely
he looked at peace
I kissed him on his forehead
   like I always had
   at the end of my visits
and cast a last long look at his figure
   before the body would be taken away

    and suddenly I noticed
       how big his hands were
    they’d never seemed so prominent before

as if in death they sent me a reminder
of how much he had loved his hands
   for work   for play  for sports
   for fight and for survival
   to point and to gesticulate
      they held me as a baby and
         some times
      slapped me as a child
   they repaired toys   split wood
   built sheds   drove cars and motor bikes
   were patient and precise
   caressed and soothed and loved

they were his life
they held his world

my father’s hands

when we remember
what the times have been
that made us into what
    and who
    we are today
we travel deep into our past
to hear our mother’s voice
our father’s not so friendly gripes
when we fouled up a task he gave to  us

our friends, our teachers, our loves
whose interactions shaped
who we eventually have become  
while we believe that we have always been
     so independent and  autonomous

it may be worth a moment to reflect
     upon the influences
     we are inclined to casually neglect
and recognize the fact
     that we are always part
     of that great whole
     which we so desperately try
     to disavow for individuality

only to recognize a few years later
the minimal common denominator

life is a wonderful excursion into space and time
always surprising, turning on a dime,
leaving us puzzled well unto the end
always intent to look beyond
the next bend of the river …….

lucky is the family
that can celebrate
more birthdays for their living
than for their dead