Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

The stuff I think about (when I think about you)

I saw your face in the clouds again today.
Just like I did the day we laid you to rest.
For a brief moment,
Before the wind took you away,
I swear you gave me that same disappointed look you always gave me.

We never really connected,
You and I.
Though I always tried hard,
And longed for you to accept and love me.
Me and all my flaws, and perfect imperfections.

I never understood your worries,
Maybe I overlooked your experiences,
Because I was young and immature.
I was not ready to understand your position,
Or the diversities in how we as humans show love and admiration.

I regret all those trips down I-90 when I drove past exit 119.
Knowing you were there alone,
You never knew how close I was,
Only the Green Giant,
He also watched in shame as I drove cowardly by,
My laziness to commit because of that extra exit and
Our obvious failures to connect.

Now, the girls will never know you.
Never feel your love.
The malignancy took what little was left of you.
As I scourged for any remnants of pride in your loss.
I remember…there was one.


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8 thoughts on “The stuff I think about (when I think about you)

  1. Honestly, I think it is time to move on if this is a current emotion. You are what you feel, so feel good … and hopefully, so will those around you … and even if they do not feel good, you will. A win-win solution to a crappy problem.

  2. this is touching, moving and heartfelt alpha.

  3. sometimes we write our loss out – and then we move forward to live as best we can, hoping we don’t repeat what was unjust or unkind. This touched me, as I had similar feelings about my parents. Good poem. I-90 even runs between Cleveland and Ashtabula – a world to the East.

    • That’s a good way to cope with loss. I think about my grandmother all the time, and wish I would have put more of an effort into the relationship we had. She was just a very difficult person to know. I will be traveling on I-90 here again soon. It’s been a long time, but looking forward to the travels.

  4. I was born in Cleveland and raised in rural Ohio near Dayton. My grandmother was a complete mystery, though from a pioneering Ohio family. Now we are the grandparents and try very hard to be a functional influence in the lives of the younger kids. You have to do that to be successful as a person.

  5. Hi The Laundry Maid. Nice to hear from you. Thank you so much for liking my poem ‘Just!’ Peace and Best Wishes. The Foureyed Poet.

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