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Showing posts with label values. Show all posts
Showing posts with label values. Show all posts

Tuesday

My Uncle - A Poem

Dean Evans

Does anybody know
I wonder
will they care?
My cousin
just called me,
her father has cancer

He was my uncle who took me in
when I was pregnant;
my uncle who taught me to sing;
my uncle who taught me;
about cleaning carpets;
the value of having a life insurance policy;
who taught me how
to pick up a bowling ball the right way,
and get how to get a strike

My father's little brother,
my uncle called him all the time
to help him get through Dad's last days;
encouraging him to be positive,
to have faith.

He was once a little boy
who my parents took into their home to live
when he no longer had a mother and his Dad was sick.
When my Dad was in his last days
My uncle tolerated Mom's comments to him.
My uncle, no matter how old,
was still the little brother, to her.

I think I will tell my older brother
and I wonder,
does he even know my uncle?
Doe he remember him from 1955?
Will it matter to him
that the last of that generation
will soon no longer be with us?

I think I will tell my sister;
and I wonder,
how well does she know him?
Perhaps from the family gatherings we attended.

I think of my younger brother and believe
he might know my uncle best of all.
He hired our uncle to work for him at one time.

My cousin asked me
to inform this side of the family.
My uncle is sick.
The prognosis is terminal.
I am surprised at myself how emotional I feel.

Elizabeth Munroz
November 11, 2007

Thursday

Daddy to the Rescue

I found my Dad’s stubbornness particularly irksome one Friday night after partying with friends until the wee hours.

Because of the bitter cold, my rattle-trap car was acting up worse than usual. and left me stranded on the icy expressway.

Eventually a car came along. I flagged it down and got a ride to a 24 hour coffee shop where I called home awakening my father from the only sleep he had received between two overtime shifts.

When Dad arrived I just wanted him to take me directly home. But, he informed me we were going back to get my car.

“It’s a piece of junk.” I said. “They can tow it away to the impound and keep it!”

“No. It is the principle of the thing. That automobile has served you and you have a responsibility to at least save it and.......”

“But, Dad,” I interrupted, “ We’re not talking about a living creature, here....”

And...” He continued, “no daughter of mine is going to abandon a vehicle on the highway like trash, where somebody could get in an accident on account of it. Besides, it is against the law.  Where is your personal integrity?”

“My personal integrity?”  I sputtered  “It abandoned me about three hours ago when that stupid car abandoned me!”

But, I knew Dad was right. This time, I was the one being hard-headed.  He stood there grinning at me, already knowing I would give in.

“Keep your chin up. You can do this.” he reminded me.

Dad opened the hood and began troubleshooting.  I stood there shivering with the flashlight in my gloved hands as my father’s bare fingers worked over the carburetor.  Each time the wind howled, I whined.  “Just leave it, Dad.  I really don’t care!”  But, Dad cared very much and kept at it.

I wondered how he could tolerate the weather. I was bundled up. He wore his work jacket, no scarf for his neck, no hat to warm his bald head. As his face and ears turned red, tears formed in his eyes from the sting of the snow. He grabbed the hood of the car and pulled it down, grazing his forehead. He reached up with his chapped hands and wiped the blood on his sleeve.

He shouted, “Get in the car!”  I thought, finally, he is listening to reason, as I sauntered back toward his car.

“No, I mean your car! Get inside and turn the key!”

“Don’t you ever give up?” I shot back at him.

He looked directly at me. “Not on your life!”

I got in my car and turned the key. Lo and behold, that piece of junk started right up and purred.

Driving home I felt ashamed of myself and filled with love and a new found respect for my father’s determination and sacrifice.

I realized, I can succeed no matter what the odds because I inherited determination, not stubbornness, from my father.

And looking in the rear view mirror, I held my chin up, and was secure in the knowledge that Dad was right behind me in more ways than I had ever imagined.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Photos are from family albums. The photo of my father wearing a goatee is one I took.