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You are--the Caribbean Sea, the Navy, that eagle tattoo...
You are your gold watch, your skinny body, your gnarled fingers.
You are the old motorboat, the scissors in the wall, tomato plants and fishing lines.
You are goodbye.
You are Budweiser beer and chocolate brown cigars--both now sacrificed like so many other things.
You are dancing over the warped kitchen floor--my feet on your feet and so much more than just my hands in your hands.
You are the bar you loved and lost.
You are the battered green Bronco you drove.
You are the red Honda motorcycle where I burned my calf even though you warned me to be careful.
You are the television you built by hand...the shed now gone to ruin in the backyard.
You are such loud snoring you were a man-made thunderstorm at night.
You are Ireland.
You are the pin in your ankle...the sarcastic humor you share...the sadness in your eyes that you don't.
You are peaks and valleys.
You are the philosopher.
You are the first man to make me feel beautiful...
and the first to break my heart.
You are a ghost who haunts me.
You are my father...my blind spot...my first love.
You are--the Caribbean Sea, the Navy, that eagle tattoo...
You are your gold watch, your skinny body, your gnarled fingers.You are the old motorboat, the scissors in the wall, tomato plants and fishing lines.
You are goodbye.
You are Budweiser beer and chocolate brown cigars--both now sacrificed like so many other things.
You are dancing over the warped kitchen floor--my feet on your feet and so much more than just my hands in your hands.
You are the bar you loved and lost.
You are the battered green Bronco you drove.
You are the red Honda motorcycle where I burned my calf even though you warned me to be careful.
You are the television you built by hand...the shed now gone to ruin in the backyard.
You are such loud snoring you were a man-made thunderstorm at night.
You are Ireland.
You are the pin in your ankle...the sarcastic humor you share...the sadness in your eyes that you don't.
You are peaks and valleys.
You are the philosopher.
You are the first man to make me feel beautiful...
and the first to break my heart.
You are a ghost who haunts me.
You are my father...my blind spot...my first love.
posted by Left-handed Trees... at 8:58 AM
27 Comments:
Delia, this is beautfiul, and haunting. our first love and our first broken heart, god, how true. Our first experience of who men are, and perhaps, who they shouldn't be. thank you for this
Sx
So beautiful! I knew from the first it was going to be a tragic ending, but it unfolded in such a manner as to never be quite sure - until the end. Well-written tribute.
What a wonderful tribute, full of vivid details. Lovely.
Sweet and real. Love bites and when it does, it draws us nearer to understanding our own self.
Thanks
bg
This is so touching. It brought back some memories, sad, funny, tender, that I hope I can keep as my father slips into dementia. He hasn't spoken to me in years and hopefully will forget that he's so angry.
What a heartwarming tribute to your father.
This was beautiful.
This made me think of what my father represents in my life...I don't know if I'm prepared at this point in our relationship (or non-relationship) to write something similar. You have inspired me, nonetheless, to think about how my father has influenced my string of loves and non-loves thus far.
Thank you so much for sharing this lovely piece.
Lovely. Just really filled with love and longing. Thank you for sharing this.
I missed your words!
:)
True first love that can be the simplest or the most complicated relationship in life. This was simple, raw and elemental. I loved it.
Yes, this is beautiful. I must admit that I envy that your father made you feel beautiful. All I remember of my early relationship with my father is the broken heart, none of the adoring love.
And this is the power of your writing, it reaches out and connects each reader to their own memories, too. Thank you.
This gave me chills. I never had a father, or father figure growing up, it must be such intense love.
Absolutely beautiful. This is a wonderful way to express oneself and I must try it. Such word pictures, such emotions, such honesty...
this touches my heart...a beautiful tribute to your father and to the healing of your heart.
thank you for this glimpse into who you are...
Love the images within this post. So full of detail and emotion. Thanks for sharing!
Wow. Again with your amazing ability to still the readers mind. To wisper in my ear your thoughts and feelings. I loved reading this.
a.
A charming summary of a life, pleasing tribute and interesting take on First Love.
I wish I could have felt this way about my father, too.
This is beautiful, touching and so eloquently presented. The line " the sarcastic humor you share...the sadness in your eyes that you don't." really speaks to me on so many levels.
wow! Wonderful wow!
just amazing, and beautifully written! a true love story.
~mindy
A touching and beautiful tribute to your father.
That was beautiful and make me feel all tickly inside.
ahhhhhhh...
this was amazing
truly
and for certain.
and i also burnt my calf
on the hot tail pipe.
Beautiful writing; a joy to read. Thanks.
This was one of the most beautiful Scribblings I've read. A memorable and moving piece of art.
Thanks for your kind comments on my Sunday Scribblings post. You may like to know that I've posted a sequel. You can find it here:
http://my-thoughts-for-a-penny.blogspot.com/2006/05/first-love-sequel.html
Honest and edgy, made me think. Thanks for sharing it.
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