Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Barbara Temperton #8 - Visitation


He rarely speaks.
A week after starting meds for neuropathic pain, Dad takes my hands in his.
“When will you come again?” he asks.
“Soon,” I promise. 
I do, but his voice does not.

5 comments:

  1. Thank you, Rosemary, Jill, Efi ... You are kindred spirits. Creative writing has been very difficult for me the past few years. I've been blocked by pain, self censorship, family and time constraints. But, I've recently come to the understanding with myself that I need to write about the things with which my daily life/thinking is preoccupied. That's been the way through. And I know my father would support me in this. Dad was a writer and artist, Zen Buddhist, bushman, Reiki Master. He's living an internal life now, but then much of his past forty years have been lived internally (if you undestand what I mean by that). More to come.

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    1. Thank you, Barbara, for these added insights. Because of personal experience I won't watch movies nor read books, no matter how wonderful they are reputed to be, on ageing and particularly dementia. I've been harrowed enough! But your beautiful posts I read with delight, albeit feeling the poignancy. I am finding that it is healing for me to do so.

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