Archive
11/25/09
Dinner Guest
I cast back to long-ago-lapsed family Thanksgivings My wife and I celebrated, with our two children, In a rural fantasy where we set down youthful roots.
Oh, those golden days of gentle independence, Innocence forged in the smithy of commitment, The belief in love that we instilled in each other.
Where did they go? How did they evaporate so rapidly? And who are we, now that we've grown far apart And our hearts hardly recognize their heartbeats?
I can't say; I wish I knew, had an explanation As to how those each-new-day days eluded us, Even as they begged us to stay, not let go,
Praying we'd realize, in time, our time's vulnerability, Its fragile, happy passage, The reality of "before you know it" and "way too fast."
Tonight, in a four-decade sigh of bittersweet reverie, I do my best, with recollection, To recreate those Thanksgiving Day feasts
That my wife and I shared with her parents, After we were first married, Then with our two kids, in our small-town home,
But realize that "best" is, at best, second best To sitting across the table from those you've loved best. Loneliness makes for a depressing dinner guest.
11/25/09
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