06.11.2025: Dad

I've kept your mug.

The one with the alligators, 

Where each one's different, 

But every one, 

Has the tail of another one

Clamped in its teeth.

You'd told me once, how 

The only time, you'd 

Use it, was when, 

To you, it felt like 

The entire world

Was "nipping at your tail"

And I understood instantly,

How it was a part of you

From outside of mom, and me. 

I've often wondered

Where did you get it? 

Did you buy it for yourself 

Some evening, waiting, 

Between trains?

Back in the early Seventies  

When you worked for 

Barton-Aschman

When we lived in Chicago,

And we only had one car, 

So, at night, after work 

You'd take the train, 

Into Evanston, 

Where mom and me 

Would come pick you up

Me, in footsie pajamas

Red boots and winter coat

While the impotent wipers

Swept the snow off of the windscreen

Of mom's burgundy Renault? 

Or, did you find it one morning, 

Left, wrapped, on your desk, 

A gift from a co-worker, 

Or maybe the whole team

Because they'd actually seen 

The monsters that you fought 

(Both from without, and from within?)

Did it make you feel seen? 

Did you feel understood? God, 

I hope that you did.

I hope that at least once, 

 

The world had been more kind to you, 

Than it later, had become, 

When you lay dying in a bed 

That wasn't even yours, 

Alone and scared, while 

The insurance company threatened.

I've kept your mug. 

Once, when I was visiting you 

And mom, from New York, you'd 

Walked into the kitchen,

Just as I was about to pour my coffee into it

 

And you told me not to use it, 

That it was personal, something special

And you told me why, so that 

Maybe I wouldn't feel offended

And I'd understand, how for you 

It was sacrosanct; an amulet 

For the worst of times. 

I kept your mug

Out of all of the objects that

Populated our home with their stories

This is the part of you

I chose to bring with me. 

I've used it only once

When I felt trapped by my shortcomings 

That was back in New York, just after you'd died.

I kept your mug. 

I keep it safely tucked 

Towards the back of the cabinet, 

Behind all my others, 

Deeply loved, even if rarely seen

And I hope that maybe 

That's the way, you'd 

Told yourself 

I felt about you.