Goodbye

December 8, 2014

Goodbye

A Poem by Coyote Poetry

Just words. Need more hellos and less goodbyes

More hellos and less goodbyes

I stood by my father old house. I remembered I came here to find a kind voice and safe place to rest. He had a open door for me always and I called him every Friday  at 8pm. Close or far. We would discuss life and things. I was deployed in some war. I was called. He was dying at 61 years old. His hard life and drinking took away his internal body. Took me three days to arrive home. He waited for me. I sat and we talked. He discussed life and he told me. Please allow me to die in my bed son. He fell asleep with me near and he didn’t awake. He told me often how proud he was of me. He told me, no goodbye son. I waited for you to come home. Remember your father is proud of his son.

Dear Grandma Beulah  was always so sweet and kind. She raised me with love and  kindness.  I would do anything for her. In her closure years. Dear Grandfather passed on and the family had take take care of her. I came to her home two days a week. I bought her fresh bananas and Wendy’s chilli. We would talk about the pass and the future. She called me her sweetie and I hope she knew. She was my Angel.  In good and bad days. She would stand-up for me. She lived 96 years and I watched her leave us and go find dear grandpa. I prayed she is dancing in heaven with him. She told me sweetie. I’m old and you are the strong one now. You must be the place where the family can find love and kindness. Grandma must say goodbye. Too much pain and hurt. Please remember you are my baby boy. I held her hand when her soft and kind heart stops. I knew. I lost my mentor and true friend.

Family

I volunteer for war in 1991.  I was trying to escape memory and sadness. I was waiting for the war to end and I called my Grandfather Reyes from Kuwait. My sister answered. She told me he died. The family wanted to keep it a secret so I wouldn’t hold sadness till I got home. I hung up the phone and I cried. I remember the kind man who fed me, cloth-me and gave me advice. I remember how tall he looked to me. He never accepted racism and he stood his ground. I was heartbroken. I realized I never told him. He was the reasons I stood tall and I stood for the right things.  I never told him. Thank you my grandfather. You taught me how to live.

Grandparent, family.

Each of us are layered. Layered of taught lessons and accepting love and kindness from honored people. If we are lucky. We become like the kind mentors. Today I try to be like father. Work hard and be a solid man. Be like my dear Grandmother Beulah. Giving love and kind words. Safe place for the kids to rest. I want to stand tall like my Grandpa Reyes. Never held back the truth and demanded respect.

Today I wish for more hellos and less goodbyes. I believe all we can do is follow the examples of the good mentors and hope we leave strong and solid children behind when we take the final walk.

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