My father. Now.

My father
His voice on the other end of the phone
Always rushing
He plows through a moment, to get to the silence
The second before goodbye
He never wants to hang up but always rushes to it

I call him now
For no reason
Just to call
Because I can, now
Because I finally want to

He mostly answers
He is mostly home
He shares now
Tells me he will answer any question I have, now
Tells me I can always call
Can always come home now

That house on Taylor Street
The one my grandfather built
That house has not been home in 25 years
This magic city of smog and fake boobs
Of $9 fresh pressed organic juice and $300 gym memberships
This not fitting in even in the “in” crowd
Everyone is alone especially in a crowd
This jaded magnificent city
This is the closest thing to home

Indiana is the place I think of running to, should I ever decide to
Because my father gave me permission to make it mine again
That land was left with me in mind
Paid in full
A place should I need it, it is always there
Like my father now
I some times think to call at 2 am
5am his time and he would answer
With not much to say
He would listen
To the silly things I want to say
Want to talk about my love and my lover
How they are the best of everything together
But he would not fully understand
There are still years and life lessons between us
Still love and who we call God between us
Still what is appropriate and so
I settle for 6 pm phone calls about bingo and the Vietnam War
About how the pistons are playing and my mother
A topic neither of us can avoid
She is the thing that bonds up
He still loves her, you know
I think he loves her better than any man before
Or after.


3 thoughts on “My father. Now.

  1. You make me tear up. Just lovely!
    Any plans to come East in the summer? It’s technically spring now! 32* but who’s counting! Buds are struggling to come out on the trees.
    We would LOVE have you in NJ!
    Thank you for your beautiful Soul & Words! Namaste, Suxi

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