October 2017.
An elegy.
I’ll never forget that mid-range jump shot
that fell to the ground just a few feet in front of you.
How you looked at your hands with that sinking expression
Like it was the first time that your strength had failed you.
And you realized that you may truly be dying.
I’ll never forget our annual Summer visits,
How each year I hoped I had grown strong enough
To best you in an arm-wrestling match at the table
Secretly comforted to find you were still stronger than me
Until one day you weren’t.
I’ll never forget midsummer ballgames at Fenway
Or how you sincerely believed you could hit Randy Johnson
Or how Jake almost caught that ball from Johnny Damon
But in your boyish excitement you accidentally knocked it away with your cap.
I wish I’d known which game would be our last.
I’ll never forget our last game of cribbage
You were in and out of a morphine stupor
Sucking on the wrong end of a cigarette
Yet somehow you were still beating me
Before I carried you to bed
I’ll never forget when you heard your mom was coming.
You were dying but you didn’t want her to worry
You wanted to look your best for her
But you could no longer operate a razor
So you asked me for a shave.
I’ll never forget watching the Celtics game at your bedside
Talking to your sleeping body as if we were watching together
Telling you we should catch a Spurs game sometime
As if you might leave the house again
When I knew that you wouldn’t
I’ll never forget sleeping by the baby monitor
With the sound of your oxygen lulling me to sleep
Struggling to tell if you were still alive in there
Leaping for joy when you would call out
But secretly wanting it to be over for you
As time passes, I remember more than the end
I remember the gap in your front teeth and the way you hissed when you laughed.
I remember how you didn’t call
I remember when I crashed into that garden post while sprinting for your touchdown pass, and how you shouted through laughter, “That’s not what I meant when I said to run a post route!”
You thought you were so funny.
I struggle to remember you the way that you were.
I make you a villain or I make you a hero
Because losing either one
Is easier than losing my dad.
But I’ll never forget you.
