Snowdrops in Spring,

Epic.

  Snapshots of a Man’s Life.

No one was there, when the spotlight of life, first shone on his head peeping through the porthole, of the passenger ship he had bedded down in.

His Mother was there, when collared dove, he raised his face upwards to the almighty light of deity, and sang like a bird soaring skywards.

His Dad was there, in the cellar of his young life, to tend the bruises, ruffle his hair, underpin his foundations, bolster his breeches, and help him to become a man.

He was there, when he first took to the skies in a career, where privates would cower and slink away, from the bark that was worse than his bite.

A whole village was there, to witness the rite of passage, that with the exchanging of rings, brings responsibility …

And so was I, underneath the veil, of a blushing bride that was not me.

He wasn’t there one morn in January, when a violet eyed babe, arm braked against the passage of life, refused to make her first entrance stage right.

Yet, from that moment on he was always there, playing peek-a-boo through the window,singing songs in the key of life,cracking egg-cellent odious jokes, telling stories to starry eyed monsters at his knees. His laughter, always the most popular tune in our ears.

Oh yes, he was always there building blocks, that add up to cement the foundations of another life.

And I was there when the shutter closed as Lyneham flew, the beautiful bird onto his shoulder, never to leave his side, always to come home to roost, to feather a nest filled with joyous rapture.

And, in that photo capture, the words lay unwritten, that I would love her too.

He was there when the phone rang that late autumn night, bringing news that new seeds had taken root. His tears washed the clay from his Achilles heel, rendering my god human.

Oh yes… He was always there with ‘7356’, as grandchildren burst forth on the screen, and kept the reels of an epic turning.

I was there, in the early autumn film of his life.

With ‘Hello, how are you?’ coming down the line, bringing news of an apple in his image, fortuitously fallen,from her branches into his lap.

And he cried as a new born babe, his happy tears baptizing his Sunshine Son.

He was always there, silently sailing through stormy seas, muffling the ears from the effects of thunder, docking into ports through time and space, opening treasure chests full of plunder, a roguish pirate amidst the human race.

Suddenly, I know not when, the winds changed direction. The leaves fell unseen by all, harvesting him towards winter.

And like Hilary, he began an epic climb, plotting tracks of Mercury whilst drifts of snow mantled the mountain pinnacle.

And all of us were there,watching, some sat loving in the back seat of this life.

Others, holding hands tight, resisting the letting go, full to capacity in a love affair, spent seventy years in production.

Photo courtesy of F.Sheilds.

No-one was there, as he lay on his side in the snow drops of spring.

The screen transformed from flickering eyes, into sudden, gentle sighs. And under a blanket he slumbered down, still watching, yet, dreaming into what would be, another reel rolling, on the face of his humanity.

For my Father.

 05.03.1938 – 03.02.2011.

One year on. Love Talia. 

Acknowledgements and attribution under creative commons licence F.Sheilds.
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11 thoughts on “Snowdrops in Spring,

  1. Wait while I dry my eyes, the tears that fall concealing my own pain. A lifetime set out so lovingly on the paper, I saw with my own eyes his life that you penned. Simple, poetic, beautiful.

    Blessings, love & light
    Donna

    • Thank you Donna, my sympathies for your own time of sorrow. This kind of loss never leaves us, I feel. But I am sure my Dad would have appreciated your ability to associate with parts of his life.

      Blessings, Love and light to you too.

      Talia.

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