Missed

[Nan]

Eight years ago
you joined the heavenly world.
That's seven autumns ago,
but who's counting?

You missed
the births of four grandchildren,
your sister’s garden wedding,
and your son's doctoral graduation.

I miss
those fatherly messages
on my answering machine;
your eyes that smiled,
enlightening with each blink;
and your off-key sing-along
to B.B. King.

Eight birthdays
and seven Christmas cards,
you would've sent--
some etched in rhymes;
others in verse, free
like your heart.
But all would've ended
with your signature lines --

I'm glad you're my daughter.
Love, Dad.

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

A lovely remembrance, Nan. I think the details add depth to the poem.

The "you missed" and "I missed" adds a nice touch as well.

Two quick suggestions:
"sing-alongs" needs no apostrophe;
In the last stanza, I might drop the "s" in verses.

Time is in ally in the loss of a loved one, but is only that.....The empty place remains.

Was it you or your sister's garden wedding?
Thank you for sharing, Nan.

[Nan]

Thank you, Jon. Although my father passed away eight years ago, certain days and events remind me of him. Expressing those thoughts in writing is always therapeutic for me.

Also, thank you for the suggestions.

By the way, he missed my sister's garden wedding.

Warmest regards,

Nan

[Marion Poirier]

Hi Nan,
A couple of suggestions to take or leave, of course.
When I read the first stanza with the 2,922 days I
understand the intent though I think the alternative
is smoother with as much impact almost three thousand
days spelled out.
I had some other suggestions but they don't do
in-depths here so I'll leave it at that.

Best regards,
Marion



Eight years ago
you joined the heavenly world.
That's almost three thousand days-
seven autumns ago,
but who's counting?

[MichaelFirewalker]

Hi, Nan----your poem is very alive, and very endearing, without being schmaltzy----I like both the emotional intensity and the clarity you've achieved by succinctly listing what you miss about your Dad----it's a strong piece...

love,
michael

[LynnDoiron]

Hello, Nan -- I found your poem poignant and real. Liked it very much. If mine, I might omit "music" and just use the musician's name -- B.B. King.

A lovely remembrance.

lynn

[mfwilkie]

Some thoughts, Nan, to tighten the opening..

God called you home
2,922 days ago
that's seven autumns, and
yes, I've been counting.

Maggie

[Nan]

Thank you, Marion, Michae, Lynn, and Maggie.

Marion and Michael, I LOVE your suggestions for the opening (so much I can't decide which to use). Both versions fit my intent and voice. For now, I leave the poem as is, hoping the other reviewer will suggest which opening I should use.

Michael, I was reluctant to post this poem because I thought it came across as schmaltzy. I am glad to hear it didn't.

Lynn, it's always a pleasure when you stop by. I incorporated your suggestion.

Again, thank you all.

Nan

[Marion Poirier]

Nan. I'm glad you liked my suggestion whether you
use it or not - maybe I'm trying to say in my clumsy
way is to stop counting the days - your Dad wouldn't
want that. I had several other suggestions for you-
but deleted them after some responses
that seemed to tell me to mind my own business.

I suggested you name your brother and sister
because I too, was wondering if the wedding
was yours or your sister's and I suggested to have
your father address you at the end by name.

How are things going for you? We haven't spoken
for a while Email me any time. Hope I could be of
some help.

Warm regards,
Marion

[Nan]

Marion, thank you for stopping by again. After given your recent comments thought, I changed the opening. I also understand the daughter/sister confusion, so I changed it to "your sister" (given my aunt re-married).

Please continue to share your suggestions as to how I can improve this poem or any future poem I post. EP is the place to obtain honest reviews (even if the opinions differ), for that reason I continue to post here.

I will send you an e-mail to catch up on each other's lives.

Again, thank you.

Nan