Nostalgia

Nostalgia creeps up on you, 
Surprises you, 
From places you cannot see.

It's the little white trashcan.
Watching your husbands toe,  
as it presses the pedal down. 

Nostalgia is funny in that moment, 
How it creates such emotion...
To watch the lid just barely peek open,
Before it flings wide exaggeratedly. 

Suddenly I'm drug into visions past. 
Seeing the trashcan in my childhood home.
Wondering how this can could last,
and last some test of time.

Grateful that my husband said
'I want that in my home'. 
Only for me to flash forward, 
See my daughter look at the can. 
Does she wonder... 
How long will this can last in my home?

As you span through time, 
And find these little things. 
That seem to mean nothing. 
That can set your heart on fire. 
Feeling amazed by these small things,
How they bring a tear to your eye. 

Will I hear my daughter say,
'I remember this trashcan in my house 
And wondered how did it last.' 

It's the silly little things, 
Those things that sit in the corner. 
That nostalgia uses. 
Keeping you centered.
To keep you home.

DGD 04.17.17



Nostalgia creeps up on you and surprises you places you cannot see

While you watch your husbands toe press the pedal down in the lead flinging open quite exaggeratedly.

It's funny how that moment can create such emotion...to watch the lid just barely peek before it flings wide open. Suddenly I'm drug into visions past and seeing the trashcan in my childhood home wondering how this last.

 grateful that my husband has been said I want that in my home only for me to flash forward and see my daughter wonder how did this last in my home

then as you span through time and find that these little things that seem to mean nothing can set your heart on fire and amazed of these don't bring a tear to your eye when you hear your daughter say I remember this trashcan in my house and wondered how did it last. Only to have  my husband look at it and want to bring it home

it's the silly little things that in the corner still. That nostalgia uses to keep you centered and keep you home.

Radio Silence

How long has it been
Since we talked
Chimed in

It's been so quiet
Maybe to quiet
Has this gone for too long

This wasn't the first time
It wouldn't be the last
A repeat of history
The continued recent past

How could we know
Why would we have thought
That this time you called
It was the last

I saw your name on the screen
Listened to your message
Thought I'd give it a few days
Let your mind get clear

My thoughts tend to race
Were you in pain
Lonely, sad, wishing to connect
What did you want to say

What did you think
Was your mind clear
Could you know
That your time was so near

Thoughts and words
Fly through the air
You talked to others
Knowing your state

Did you know what it did
How your voice would hurt
Deciding to screen your call
Delaying that moments pain

Waiting before I tried
Listening to the rings
Hoping your mail box 
Would take the call

I finally deleted your message
I don't want to remember 
Your voice in that way

I try to not think
Of the radio silence
From those days

For today 
The radio is silent
And it will remain that way

DGD 04.20.16

I Have Not Forgotten 01.28.17

I have not forgotten you.
That has not begun to start.
It is just that the pain I have felt
...it no longer resides in my heart.

I know you wanted to live.
How you wanted to be in our lives.
To see your family,
The beautiful glow in your granddaughters eyes.

Your path was tricky and a bit rough.
The steps you took would always trip you up.
Even though in your past, 
You were pretty darn tough.

Your memory has not dimmed.
I can recall you, your face, easily.
I not only remember you,
It is all the beautiful things you had done.

I recall the moments,
The moments of disappointment too.
It is ok for me to feel sad,
And the times that I get mad.

I am ok with the occasional tear,
To be frustrated with the path you chose.
It is ok for me to move away from those emotions,
And to realize that guilt is a silly notion.

I no longer feel wrong about not seeing you.
We all make choices.
You did.
I did too.

I wrote a poem about the last time we talked.
How I finally deleted your last message.
Now that more time has passed, 
It is amazing how thoughts are vested.

When I think of that last evidence of your voice,
That if for some reason it still existed, 
I would delete it again.
Although, the reasons would be different.

I remember how much you loved your mom,
And watching football with your dad.
I'm pretty sure he's why you read.

I remember how much you enjoyed those books,
And how happy you'd be when I finally picked one up.
Even though it was a graphic novel,
Ok... a comic book.

It is ok for me to talk about you,
Because you see, 
I have not forgotten you.
I remember.
I remember all of you.

DGD 01.28.17