Life goes on(Burying my father)

Life carries on regardless.

I watched them as they stared,
wondered as to their thoughts as they read the floral tributes
that leaned against his casket.
I had been them on many occassions,
sometimes shedding tears, thanking God it wasn't me.
But today it was, it was me, it was my turn to grieve,
to watch life continue whilst mine, briefly paused,
was put on hold until the ceremony, fuss, over.

As we inched forward in the busy, mid morning traffic,
an elderly couple noticing our cavalcade stopped,
turned to face us, and as one bowed their heads,
standing stock still, respectful,
carrying on about their business only once we passed by.
Different the four young lads, 2 generations on,
they pointed, flicked v signs
whilst laughing and joking amongst themselves,
no thought, no shame, not an ounce of respect.

Looking away I caught the eye of a "mother dragged" toddler.
I smiled, he smiled back, stumbling as he did so,
this making him laugh.
He waved a bright, pastel coloured mitten my way,
this cutting through the drear of the day
as a sparkler does on a cold November night.
I waved back as they headed towards the rusted, wrought iron gates
that led into the children's play park.
Oh to be a child again...

Without warning, from nowhere,
Dad's voice filled my head, loud, clear,
reciting words he had written for the "young" me,
words that until now, thought only of as a simple, pleasant rhyme..

"The moon will cede to rising sun
night will follow day,
seasons change, tides ebb and flow
no matter, come what may.

These constants, never given thought
expected, ever there,
as parents are to innocence
to nurture, love and care."

It was then the tears came.
For the first time in my life I felt truly alone.

Author's Note

Written from the viewpoint of a daughter watching the world pass by as she travels to bury her father.

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

Beautiful words from your father. It's a good companion our memories. The voices of those we know so well chime in when we least expect them.
I have (had) a large family and have worn a path to our family plot anf I guess that path will not stop with me.

[Gee]

Unlike you Cherrie I only have my mum and immediate family ( this was written from the viewpoint of a daughter) 4 brothers and 2 sisters. My old man cleared off when we were small kids so my old mum raised us .
Thank you again for commenting

[Chris Shaw]

Your lines took me back inside the limousine where my mother, myself and four siblings sat in our grief following my Father's hearse. I have done that journey, looked out of the window at the people going to and fro. Some respectful, others not caring a toss, and the black humour emanating from inside that limousine. Not done intentionally but by one of my brother's, awkward with his feelings. The eight line poem within this poem, I found very moving. Realistic, very. Good morning Gee.

Chris

[Gee]

Thank you Christine, luckily as yet not had to make any such journey.
Hope you are strapped down as the wind is howling :)

[Chris Shaw]

It surely is. Not contemplating venturing out in it. Have a great weekend Gee.

[Gee]

You too :)))

[Robert Trakofler]

Wow Gee this touched me.... I wasn't in the mood for a sad poem but i had to look and I'm glad i did! You did a great job of channeling in this authentic and it wasn't so sad after all :)

[Gee]

Hi BB, cheers. Appreciate you having a butchers and commenting :))

[Lorry]

My abiding memory of my Dad's funeral was when an old man stopped, took off his cap and bowed his head. It was the one and only nice thing that happened that day and I have always wished I could have seen him again to thank him.
The kid waving in the tale was lovely. Unbeknownst to that kid the ritual of bowed head, they act in the only way they know, with a smile that warms the heart.
But I wonder what that teen will feel like when its one of his being planted. No respect for anything but themselves. Bloody kids! Blargh and other grumpy noises.

[Gee]

There is an awful lack of respect nowadays, should it be blamed on the parents or are today's kids becoming more and more self obsessed arseholes. I know what I think.
Good morning Lorry, hope you're tights haven't been blown off :))

[barleygirl]

I have not attended any funerals, so I read your stark, realistic observations as if seeing such a scene for the first time. Even tho I love the way you crafted your title line, and there are expressions of grief thru-out, overall I'm catching more of an "observer" mode for this narrator. It could be any gender, but the narrator feels as if he/she is watching more than being involved in the scene, expressing sorrow mainly as an observation of what others look like. This is probably how I would be at a funeral, too - detached (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Gee]

Thanks Margie. I attempted to write this from the viewpoint of the daughter watching the world pass as she looks out of a window of one of the moving cars in the funeral procession :)

[Stella Armour]

Burial funerals are always the saddest to attend; standing around the open grave in itself is traumatic.
You have captured the atmosphere well , the youngsters unaffected not knowing yet the finality of death and the child on his way to play just wanting to be happy.
For myself i have never managed to shed tears at a funeral, mine always come later... sometimes much later.

[Gee]

Thanks Stella.
I've only ever been to a handful of funerals which is just as well really because I'm as soft as lights .

[Stella Armour]

Well, i worked in care of the elderly for years and i suppose i got used to death after the first few so you never really get used to it but you do learn coping techniques.. of course if it is someone very close that is a different matter.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Sad cavalcade of a poem that gets you on the reveal as we realise this id someone following a hearse. Flowing and sensitive and full of detailed everyday observations. Told is a voice filled with empathy. A couple of small snags perhaps:

First stanza 'sat twice in three lines?
trespassers that had been caught handed [red-handed?]

Second stanza a comma needed after 'as one'

[Gee]

Thank you John. All and any help gratefully received. Cheers

[Gee]

Have tinkered with, hopefully reads a wee bit better now.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Reads well Gee. They were tiny snags.