Going Home, Like A Reed In Snow

So many writers claim this about going home. I remember several moments of my life going back to somewhere important, how it had changed. It has always seemed vaguely insulting if not downright hurtful that things change this way.

These poems are what happened to me Dec. 18. That day was my Dad's birthday. Every year on that day I remember him to his daughter and last wife, her mother. I remember him to my sister. He raised us, my mother's husband, after I asked him to marry us when I was five. My sister came to us when she was in fourth grade and me in sixth after she lived in a holocaust behind a white picket fence down in the LA area. She is really my cousin. In her way I think she loved him more than me. Dad died of bone cancer in 2001. So this day is larger in my life than most.

Going Home

I tried to go home
The way I remembered it,
Turned the last corner,
Nothing true was there.
All was twisted, different.
My heart broke open.

I think I need a tantrum.
I need to tweak God's old nose.

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God and me, we have that sort of relationship. I was arguing with Him before I was born, quite like Jacob would not let go of the angel. I am in the fix I am in because of that argument. Just like this:

Like A Reed In Snow

Standing so upright,
So ramrod straight for so long
I am like frosted,
Like a reed in snow,
Forgetful of all futures,
Of all plans you had
For me, for my life.

Is this the way it will be
Between us, you gone, me stiff?

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I learned in AA that if I can't be angry with God, who can I be angry with? If Jesus calls God, Abba, and I am in image and likeness, then I too can call God, Abba. Fathers forgive the anger of sons, at least good ones do. But I stew in my own juice a bit :)