2

At first they thought it was 1.
Taking a second peep they now
tell us it's 2, due to be cut
and sorted tomorrow some time.
He phones my Mum every day..
to say that he loves her..
hates being alone there..
hate the food they feed
him.. the antiseptic
smell there. He calls
my brother to say he
loves him. He chats
with me every day to
say he loves me..and
we all reply 'we love
you too Dad.' My mind
is lost with images
of a man so frail,
so thin..old. My
image of this once
strong capable man,
my Dad who as a child
held s much respect
and still do, who
was brought up not
to answer back, be
cheeky.. watch your
manners, your P's
n Q's. A man who
is so tall, so
proud yet so
private in his
love for my Mother,
not to hold hands
in public view.
I see this man,
I hear his warm
voice so full
of fear, my love
for him could
conquer all.
His voice is
so frail on
the phone, slow
and not sure
of his next
move. He shuffles
about as though
his laces be
tied. The lines
around his eyes..
like so much in
many ways like
his sister..
she is the
oldest..yet
they have so
many similar
mannerisms.
My hand as a
child fitted
so well into
his large capable
hands..strong..
loving..well
worked hands.
He wears his
slippers all
the time now,
his feet ache.
I wanted to
take him some
nice green juicy
grapes.. he
said not, he
wouldn't be able
to eat them.
My heart's
breaks.