Some Last Words from my Father

 Some Last Words from my Father

Dad is disquietingly quiet these days

Eyes closed even when awake

Dosing off intermittently, head atilt. 

If eyes are the window to one’s soul

The draperies are drawing shut

With tiny shafts of sunlight

Capriciously bursting through,

Stabbing us with surprising delight.

But this weekend, how shall I say it?

Dad RALLIED himself at a moment’s notice. 

Rose to the occasion with an unforeseen

Rapture of light and life and love

That cascaded over us like

A Glens Falls spring waterfall.

In an unanticipated moment

He leaned forward, propped himself up,

And began to speak.

Words that earlier had evaded him 

Were rolling off his sapless tongue.

Not effortlessly, of course,

But naturally and affectionately.

It sounded like our dad.

“I’m proud of you kids.”

“Your mom and I are so pleased with you.”

“I love you all only second to Christ.”

“I wish I had more time with you.”

“This is happening faster that I hoped it would.”

“I don’t want to go to heaven quite yet,

I know that must sound unspiritual.”

“I love the Lord and want that for all of you.”

“We always wanted our grandkids to follow Jesus.”

“We’ve always tried to just love people

So they could come to know Jesus like we do.”

“We are so thankful for each of you.”

“I guess it’s my time to go be with Jesus.”

“Thanks for coming to be with me.”

Each word was hard fought

Making them land with eternal gravitas.

God only knew how much we needed his voice,

His fatherly blessing bequeathed 

To his offspring and theirs.

We hung on his every word with bated breath

Clinging to each heavy-laden expression

As if our lives depended on them.

And while the words poured from his heart

The tears poured from our eyes.

We spoke embattling words back into his own soul

Honoring our patriarch and padre

Acknowledging his sacrifices,

Returning our own pride and pleasure

Mostly just wanting him to know

That he’s been a good dad

And that we’re going to be ok,

Taking the torch and running the next leg.

Almost as quickly as he was quickened

He slunk back into a drowsy repose

Having spoken his peace leading to ours,

The shutters closed on those old windows,

His soul withdrawing back into the cool shadows,

Resting peacefully. 

I’ll never forget those words as long as I live.