I saw Mammy yesterday,
Sitting, smiling and relaxed.
Idling wasn't her usual way.
Then your Dad walked into view,
Lighting up, talking loud.
He wasn't comfortable in a crowd.
Nana and Bub shine in glorious colours,
As do the constant sisters and brothers.
There's Marlene tucked-in on the couch,
With an infectious smile that leaves no doubt.
Jim's feeling his cups. He's crying out.
But can't explain what his pain's about.
Da's holding Eucheria in his arms,
Pretending to water our dead brown lawn.
Sweet Maura teases with a sharp handled comb,
Sneaks in the side door when returning home.
Sister Sheila in heels gives herself a lift,
For without them she's about four foot six.
And Kevin my older rebellious brother,
Tells biker stories that made us shudder.
Sean has all the talents and skills,
With looks and smiles that really ****.
Gerald too had similar traits,
But dwarfed us all when he'd read and write.
They laugh and cry,
Smile and tear;
It's as if
They're all still here.
I captured each
On video tape;
Healthy, alive,
This side of the Gate.
Yet someone's missing from these scenes,
Someone who's rarely seen.
A Son, Brother, Husband, Da,
Uncle, Nephew,
And Granda.
That someone's me,
Quietly peering,
In the view finder
Of my camera.
All family members are gone until I load my Zip drive, and there they are.
And it's true. There might be five seconds of me on film as I scan the room, and see myself in a mirror.
Da: Irish word for Dad (just drop the final "D"
Granda: Irish for Grandad