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Tag Archives: estrangement

Father, with a Touch of Hood

One: Yesterday

I am at the 5 & Diner on Colter and 16th Street/Finishing a scoop of ice cream/Which followed an omelette made with shaved steak, peppers, onions/And two kinds of cheese.

It is my slightly naughty (being diabetic) Father’s Day gift to myself.

The two women who made me a father thirty-five years, two months, and one week ago/Live together with a floating population of cats/In the house I once shared with them.

They want to have nothing to do with me, indefinitely/And I have been respecting their wishes.

It has been this way for more than four years.

It hurts less and less as time goes on/But Father’s Day amps up the gaping ache.

Life goes on.

.

Two: Today

It’s my day off. I think, as I have many times/Of writing a letter to Kate/And reminding her/That we have had hundreds of good times together/And that we both love the movies, and Hawaiian and Mongolian barbecue,

And asserting that the explosive argument that started our estrangement/Began with a misunderstanding,

And asking her forgiveness for my crimes against the family,/Including me never ever attending a PTO meeting/When she was a student,/And gambling away a chunk of what should have been family money,

And I would ask consideration for the hours I spent teaching her to read and to count and to write her name (that one took two weeks)/So that she could apply for and obtain a library card at age 3…

But the fire sparked by my real need/To be a father to my daughter again/Flickers and dies with the realization/That after four years the voltage is still sky-high/And what I want is not the issue at stake,

And her specific request at last writing was “please let me go” even though “I know this makes you very sad.”

Even bringing this out in the open/Makes me feel like a hoodlum,

A Father, with a touch of Hood.

The Nose-Grabber Never Hurts

The toddler begins to speak
And the papa begins to entertain
The stroller yields thrills with kinetic energy
And tilt in a 50-yard mad dash
Dubbed the “Wheelie Whee”

And then there are Gheeps and Teekos
And Raspberries on Thee Tummy
All yielding gales of giggles

But there is a modest lesson in compassion
With the Nose-Grabber
Which is a clamp of sorts
Made from the victory fingers of the left hand
Applied to the nubnose of the toddler
For three or four seconds
With feather touch gentleness
And the papa somberly telling his child
“Remember: The Nose-Grabber Never Hurts.”

Alas, I the Nose-Grabber
DID hurt my child
Not with kinetic energy but with words
Not with name-calling
But with what she called “Yell Lectures”
And not with indifference
But insensitivity…

We are estranged now
For over three years.

Every day hurts
The Nose-Grabber.
He wishes his child well
From afar.

A few things happened and are happening to me in the last twelve months that are irreversible. I cannot not have had Covid, for instance. I tested positive in mid-August and went through a week and a half of fatigue and mild misery. I made the choice I was offered, to get a monoclonal antibody infusion, and now I experience what I am pretty sure are side effects from that infusion: almost every day I get an itching, especially in my hands and feet, upper arms and ankles, and every few days there is a numbness in my forearms or face as if they were wrapped in mildly electric wool. And the literature I got relating to the infusion said that there might be side effects, and itching due to anaphylaxis was mentioned.

Months before I got Covid, though, in late March, my daughter and I became estranged. No details, Friends, for privacy’s sake. But there it is, and it’s more negatively impactive than the Covid. I was hoping we’d resolve things long before now, but we may never. And she had been the most important person in my life.

And now we come to the photo above. You see a drawing I made today, and my airport and employee credentials. A little over a week ago I sent this e-mail to certain managers at SSP America, the company I work for:

****
Subject: Graceful Exit (two weeks’ notice)

Priority: Important

From: Gary Bowers

To: Jake W; Maria W; Tommy R; Linda W; William H; Lieryn J

Sent: Sep 7, 2021 4:46 PM

Dear Managerial Friends,

It is with some wistfulness and regret that I hereby tender two weeks’ notice of my exit from SSP America. I have had a thoroughly wonderful time in my five-plus years with you fine folks. But two things have become acutely obvious in recent months. The first is that the physical and logistic demands of my job with my hours are taking too much away from my creative endeavors. The second is that I am running out of time to do the many things I need to do before my time is up. I’ve just turned 67, and the meter is running.

Bless you all and thank you for all you have done for me. I have a headful of memories I will cherish always.My last day of work at SSP will be September 21, 2021, two weeks from today.

My very best regards and wishes,

Gary Bowers
Host/Cashier, Matt’s Big Breakfast

 

Here are Jake and Linda, two of the managers who got my e-mail. They are fine people to work for, and I am going to miss them terribly.

As for the drawing, it isn’t very good. I have not done much sketching since my Covid episode, and this was forced. But it seems to reflect, even in the forcedness, a sort of Yin/Yang dynamic that is part of the mix when things change.

Hell Own’d

Here&Now I am hurt so
Even snakes don’t get so low
L
oss of friends & sacred kin
L
eaves me lost & feeling skinn‘d

Hay Bud

Haboob
A
perçu
Y
arrowstalked

“A river is never the same,” says the ancient wisdom, and so it is with our lives.