Hold and Bear

Stray energy of events long past split the peace to remind me what I said.
Amends made. Motive admitted. Apology offered.
Regrets are easy to hold; heavy to bear.

Hey Dad, I'm Home!

When I sleep anything is possible. Nothing's broken; not hearts, not dreams.

A factory somewhere in my mind, all steel, all gray shades of black. I'm walking with other men and workers are above and around me. From behind, the voice I can't replay in my mind calls out,      "Hey Dad! I'm Home!" The voice I heard was exactly as I remembered before I forgot. There was that deep tone with twinge of a northwest coast accent, a grin, and a little boyish mischief. I spun around and there he was. Walking with two other guys, Aaron dressed in some sort of leather black jacket and welding goggles ran to me and I to him. We wrapped our arms around us and fell to the ground. "He's HOME! My son's HOME! My son's HOME! Aaron's HOME!!" I yelled to everyone. "Look, this is my son! He came HOME! Aaron!! Aaron's Home!"  We rolled on the ground hugging and laughing. I heard the laugh I don't remember. I felt his body in my arms.

My excitement wakes me. My arms, they are empty. Oh...right.  The voice is gone. Gone from my memory again and the heart breaks with the dream. He's not home. My son's not home. He's not coming home. Nine and a half years of not coming home.

Nudge

From where he sat what was life or not on the other side of the door was visible only enough to see something and nothing for sure. Two or three steps, if he could nudge it open with a wish instead of his hand he would glide through. Grief had delivered him ninety eight percent of the way to the threshold where he paused too long. And they rushed him to the operating room.

Maybe it was desire to experience the adventure of the operation and the love that would follow, or maybe he was just chicken, it doesn't matter. He put off what could be done today for tomorrow and something or nothing for sure will be there when the door opens again, and it will because time is the doorman.