The Present Moments Past

Looking back on family memories leads to a good poem.

This is dedicated to the ones that gave it all,

And never gave up.

This is dedicated to the ones that stood tall.

Remember the tables filled with games and the brand-new ruined couches?

The multitude of pets and those damn little white mouses.

The moments of pain,

The moments of strain.

I hope it all goes away and we see a brighter day.

Remember the ladder incident and the later moments spent,

In the hospital when the doctors had to sew in stitches?

My face still itches from time to time and I think,

Do I still have the mark on my face?

Am I ready to face the day when I feel that I'm on the brink?

To motivate myself I just recall all the moments that we spent together,

All the foreign exchange students and the bad winter weather.

Do you recall the road trips we went on,

And the flights,

To and see cousins,

And the ones to feel the California sun?

Because in those moments we spent together 

I still taste the Marx's bagels bakers' dozens,

They taste sweet and savory and in part,

They were all good fun in the van that could barely start.

And just to clarify we could barely begin packing successfully,

And that's just the start.

There was the classic question that made us feel like the Incredibles,

"Are we there yet?"

 And yet,

Somehow there was more than the classic answer,

It went,

"We'll get there when we-"

But it was always cut off with,

A heartfelt brotherly quarrel that started off with,

Nothing particularly,

And quite honestly the arguments stemmed from nowhere in particular.

They were a tangent,

Part of the longer storyline,

They sound like classic movie scenes,

Being that they went something like this,

"Honey, did we get everything?"

"Where's Elliot at? It's five minutes to departing."

With the whole family playing a role we made the cast as a whole.

We didn't need Hollywood reality to make it seem real.

Nor the tape reels,

Directors,

Star actors, 

Crowd or cinema goers or critics.

We would criticize each other on sibling instinct.

Pull pranks for the fun of it,

And I still think back at it.

Back to the moment when I opened the door and realized the room was rigged.

Everything fell down like dominoes,

But on a big scale.

This is dedicated to each and every tale,

To each and every homemade tamale and everything bagel.

This is dedicated to never having a stale,

Moment or story.

Thank you for the time that was spent raising us and attempting to raze the bad habits.

At times I still wonder how those times tend to stay with me.