Dear Readers,
I have been very busy with weddings, a grandchild on the way and my leg in a soft cast because of a cranky Achilles. Life is good!
In honor of “Father’s Day” I would like to share these poems from a father, Wade Greenlee. We met virtually through a website for which I wrote an article. His grief is very fresh:
“We had that same knock on our door, Sept. 9th of last year (2013). A Carson City deputy gave us a note to call a detective in Reno. We asked if it was about our son, Brooks, and he said yes. We originally thought that maybe he got into some trouble or something, but then the deputy said it was bad, and out it came… “Your son is deceased.” Brooks was murdered by another man who was stalking a girl that Brooks was friends with, and had called him to help her. Now, our normal life is gone…a new journey has begun…and we do not like it. He is our only child and now we will never know the pride of seeing him graduate college, get married, have children, buy his first house… We will wait patiently for those “gifts” but right now do not see anything that would give me that hope. Thank you for your story and your insight and I will try to trust that you are right.”
Sleepness Nights
Sleepless nights…wakeful dreams
I see a man far in the distance
He beckons me forward
But I am stuck in time
It moves so slowly now
Trapping me in shadows
Whispering past memories
Like the wind through trees
A soft breeze so quiet
I yearn for its gentle caress
For just a moment…one moment
I wish so much to stay
But I am the man calling
For this journey must continue
The wind blows again
With memories to move me forward
So Many Days Ago
The days are piling up
Like oak leaves in the fall
So many days ago
Since I felt your touch
Your pictures beckon me
So I reach for you through them
Our grasp is so fleeting
Just a moment and it’s gone
I yearn for your presence again
But only feel whispery tendrils
Of your memory fading
And my strength ebbing away
New memories are forging
But they are weak and fragile
They stay for such a short time
For there is no love to hold them together
I yell out to the emptiness
Which will never again be filled
With the happiness of being
A father to a son
— Wade Greenlee
I have also included one that my father, Gerd Stern, wrote when Christopher, was murdered 18 years ago. Happy Father’s Day, Papa!
Checkin’ the Set*
there was nothing to forgive
then murder impossible to forget
drove your express spirit beyond
the no-ow-now presence gone
remembering your cramped tears
homesick ready for return
stone buddy cool dude games
Gofer Topher and Rasta Granpa twogether
inhaled our dug of choice
voicing synced to Stop The Violence
snorkeling o’er Poetreef coral heads
life quick if it’s not
where is it there you’re gone
to be scattered ashes
on Tamalpaian peak
highbeam grin turned to us
from twenty on years of photolit
token keepsake images portending
immediate fata finality
that shot to unexpected
to be so true
(*Checkin’ out the set is watching the sunset)
Happy Father’s Day to everyone.
Thank you, Radha for this gift of being allowed to express my grief in this way. It has helped me through so many difficult days. I am better now…not whole…but ok. I have seen hope in this journey. It is still fleeting, but I will get there eventually. This first Father’s Day was hard, but I knew it would be so I isolated myself a little and spent a lot of time with Brooks at his site. Thank you for all you do…and may peace and comfort always find you.