Dad

I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot lately.

We just celebrated the first of two family Thanksgiving dinners, and it gave me pause to remember that Thanksgiving dinner was the last meal I ever cooked for my dad.

Three years. Three years that I haven't been able to call him and laugh about how ridiculous US politics are, or Canadian politics, for that matter. Three years since I got to go over the most recent BC Lions score, or rail at how easily the Canucks gave up their lead. Again. Three years since I asked for his advice about something, anything. Three years since my children crawled onto the armrest of his overstuffed recliner for a snuggle. Three years since I saw saw him smile, or heard his voice.

It was the Monday after Thanksgiving when my father  was hospitalized for the last time.

I had been feeling down for a few days before I realized why:

Grief never ends.

I found a poem today that resonated with me, so I'm going to share it below.  Hope you get something out of it.

Gasping for the Flash

A flash
An instant that is meaningless in the endless cosmic cycles
Yet so significant it changes everything
Takes the breath of life from someone you love
A lasso from heaven swept across the sky
Grasping his neck
And taking him back to the dirt and the dust
As our tears turn to rust
As they blanket our face and turn our smiles to stone
And cover our world in a fog of raging fumes
For we lost you
And we are lost with confused chaotic minds
No matter what our beliefs
It doesn’t change the pain of losing a life
A light
Every passing thought of you
Makes the world stop
For moments that seem like hours
And hours that seep into days
I see the air come out of my mouth
Sweet and steaming from a fiery body that still moves
And I feel my life intensify
For every small flash of our lives is so precious
And fragile
I still can’t believe you are gone
You are still so real here
Fresh in our mental recollections

– SHILOW

Busy Little Bee's Poetry Corner - The Sound of Salsa

Today in Busy Little Bee's Poetry Corner, we revisit one of my favourite filks. But first, an explanation of the word "filk":

To my reckoning, a filk is a song where one takes an existing melody and makes up new lyrics for it. This was in practice even in medieval times, but really gained popularity (and it's name) in the 20th century in Sci-Fi culture. Wikipedia has this to say on the topic. When trying to explain it to others, I generally end up saying, "You know, like what 'Weird Al' does." Clear as mud? Great.

And now, without delay, is the filk that Hubby and I wrote in about 5-10 minutes in March 2008. I give you...

Busy Little Bee's Poetry Corner

Good afternoon, and welcome to Busy Little Bee's Poetry Corner.

This is where I write atrocious poems, share some of my horrible haiku, or just share something that someone far more talented than I has written.

Today, I give you an original work, inspired by my beloved children, and the game they are currently playing.

O, Lego Star Wars
Kids sniping at each other -
   It's just a game, guys.