The poem below is the second of a two-part post with the poem ICU 2423 which reflected on my father-in-law’s near fatal car accident two and half years ago. I wrote today’s poem, ‘After Your Crash’ after my father-in-law was released from the hospital and in time to have Christmas with him recovering and finally home. At the time we thought he would be allowed to come home just for the day so I was so happy to receive the call from my wife that her father would be coming home for Christmas – and staying. After six weeks in the hospital, he was coming home.
With my mother-in-law, wife and sister-in-law at the hosptial, our’s was the only house with Christmas decorations. I had made sure of that for our children and for the family. With so much happening since his accident and my wife living (literally) at the hospital, our boys and I, out of shear survival mode, morphed into a lifestyle supportive to the daily activities of three people. So we made sure we decorated our big tree in the living room, put the angel on top, turned on the lights and with it looking like Christmas in our home, it started to feel like Christmas. I bought a Honeybaked ham and we prepared our home for our immediate family of ten. With Christmas, and everyone home, we could reconnect and be thankful we were still a family ten.
Yesterday, we celebrated my father-in-law’s 72nd birthday. We ate a wonderful meal at a Middle-eastern restaurant and then went back to my in-law’s house along with my sister in-law’s family for cake, brownies and icecream. The grandchildren bugged Grandpa to pull out his old Super 8’s which he did – 8mm films of their family vacations in the 1960′ and 70’s; Yellowstone, Bryce Canyon, The Grand Canyon, Washington D.C. And then Christmases and Easters. We chuckled at my wife and her sister, how much their children look like them. And the antics of sisterly interactions on film with no sound. And as I listened to the dialing of the film and the hum of the film projector, I watched my father-in-law and wondered what his thoughts were as he watched his little girls, so much behind us and still, thankfully, so much to go.
After Your Crash
By Darren King
[copyright 2009]
We gathered for Christmas,
all of us there,
all of us -
sharing couches and floor
with the grandchildren playing board games,
except me
who remained in the kitchen
putting, as I must, an order to things.
Perhaps,
you are stronger than I.
You seemingly shake
off easily what I can not.
Me
I must stop. Contemplate.
As I do this very night counting -
ten water glasses, ten dinner plates,
the sounds from ten hearts beating
in our home.
Darren,
It’s always such a nice surprise to be surfing the poetry section on WordPress and come across a new post by a blog-friend. It is an especially nice surprise in your case. This continuation is warm and thankful and wonderful and everything I said about the previous piece applies to it.
There is a section that touched me – a part that struck me as a poetic goldmine, if you will.
“With so much happening since his accident and my wife living (literally) at the hospital, our boys and I, out of shear survival mode, morphed into a lifestyle supportative to the daily activities of three people.”
That line is moving and haunting and… wounded. It reminds me of a three-legged dog. I think this line is begging to be explored at some point in the future. Most families experience a time like this, be it when one family member is out of the picture for some reason – a business trip, summer camp, an untimely death. I attempted a piece recently where I wrote of my family – my mother, my father, and I – trying to function immediately after the death of my older brother when I was a child. The three-legged dog comparison worked its way into the piece but I didn’t finish it – I couldn’t make it work. I’m sure that’s why this line spoke to me so much.
Bryan, as I was fixing my typos
I saw your comment. You write with ease and grace. Thank you for sharing and relating your trials in writing about your family’s grief after your brother’s death. Along with being a great writer, you’re also a great editor. I can not always say why I love a poem. I usually have to think about it for a while. But you have pointed out something I did not see before and that I do think needs exploring and I thank you for that. Grace. Yes, I think I was correct. You write with grace. Have a great Sunday…best, Darren
Darren, I love this. I love this post and your poetry (and, I must admit, even though I’m and English major…or perhaps because of that, and 8 years of reading horrible 8th grade poetry, I’m not a big fan of poetry) says so much, ekeing out layers of meaning in so few words. Thanks for sharing. Your writing has enriched my day.–Alison
Alison, thank you for reading my work and your kind comments. If you’re game, and wish to check out other poetry, check out ‘Poetry Everywhere’ under my resources link and Billy Collins (The Lanyard). I think you would enjoy his work (he published Poetry 180 during his stint as poet laureate).
I read your essay, ‘Mom the Musical’ and thought it was just brillant and great writing. Thank you for sharing that experience…
Best,
Darren
Darren, Your intro to this poem (and the first poem, too) is as poetic and lovely as the poems themselves. I absolutely LOVE “After your crash.” One thing I so admire in your poetry is the way the people come alive – especially you – all blood and bones and raw emotion. Not all poetry does that, but yours truly does a sort of magic – making the ordinary extraordinary.
Thanks for stopping by Judy, and for ‘getting’ my work…I’ll take your note as high praise…shared comments, such as your’s, are always a joy to read…’see’ you over at Zebra Sounds…best, Darren
making my own rounds today, and these are quite nice. Your father- in – law is a lucky man to live, but even more blessed in the family he survived to… It’s evident you care deeply, and beautiful you can confidently express it!! Glad you’re writer’s soul is emergent again!! Cindy
Thanks Cindy! Yes, I’m trying to take back a little portion of my life and write again…love your work….thanks for stoppying by…
I love your beautiful, evocative poem about your father-in-law, family, togetherness, and what you all had just been through. Thanks for this – a really wonderful start to the week.
Thank you for your kind comments Emily – and for stopping by to read my work…always a treat…best, Darren