Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Just Walking Each Other Home. . .

  I did not intend to write a blog any time soon, if ever again. However, this blog has evolved over several nights. I think it wants to be written.
  Tommy and I were freshmen in high school.The year was probably 1963. He was sitting behind me in Mrs. Walker's English and Literature class. We were studying Literature at that time. I always had a love for poetry. We were studying the works of Edna St. Vincent Millay. As usual, I was not prepared for class. When we read the poem aloud, I was visibly shocked by how calm the mother talked to her children and in the last line I understood how broken the mother's heart happened to be. I turned around, talking to Tommy about it. Mrs. Walker immediately wanted to know what we were sharing. I told her the truth and how the poem felt like it cut through my heart. She smiled. Mrs. Walker knew I had learned a life lesson about empathy. Tommy and I mentioned this several times in our life together. 

               Lament
   
          Listen children:
          Your father is dead.
          From his old coats
          I'll make you little jackets:
          I'll make you little trousers
          From his old pants.
          There'll be in his pockets
          Things he used to put there,
          Keys and pennies 
          Covered with tobacco;
          Dan shall have the pennies
          To save in his bank.
          Anne shall have the keys
          To make a pretty noise with.
          Life must go on,
          And the dead be forgotten;
          Life must go on,
          Though good men die;
          Anne, eat your breakfast;
          Dan, take your medicine;
          Life must go on;
          I forgot just why.

    Tommy and I often misquoted this poem throughout our life together. He will never be forgotten that is a promise I can make and have made a thousand times or more.