Dear Mom…

by ZacharyWGilbert

Mom,

This March, you will have been gone for nine years.  Remember your granddaughter?  You held her in your fragile hands, she was only a few months old, and you only had a few months left.   A year after you were gone, I cleaned up you art studio, I kept expecting you to walk in and yell at me for messing up your stuff.  I gave  your yarn to Robin, she is an awesome mother-in-law to my little sister, just like how you were to Jackie.  I quit wandering around lost with jobs.  I went back to college and finished, I have an awesome career now.  I make drinking water, just like dad does.  We talk shop all the time.  He misses you everyday, but he stays busy, and he loves all of your grandkids.   You have five now.  My son would make you laugh. We lost two pregnancies before he showed up.  We almost gave up, but I am glad we didn’t.   I am going to be 56 years old when he graduates high school.  I tell the joke that everyone will  think I am his grandpa.  “Hey your grandpa came to your graduation!”  Then he says, “That’s my dad.”  Maybe I won’t look old.  Silver hair is scouting my hair in single strands here and there.  My hair is still there, so I don’t care what color it decides to be.  I bought a new sports car.  It’s not a midlife crisis.  I have always loved fast cars.  Just like you did.  If you are gonna commute, then you get to drive what you love.  I don’t know if you know it or not, but you set me up very well.  You made me strong.  I hope you are proud of me.  I wish, God would let you call me, but I see you in my dreams sometimes.  You are young, and healthy.  Sometimes you just watch me play with the kids, quiet, with a warm smile, I would imagine you would be doing the same thing, if you were here.  Sometimes we talk about non-fantastical things.  When I wake up and can never remember what they were.  That old crazy standard poodle, Molly is still alive.  She is like a ghost hanging out in skin and bones.  I think she is worried about dad.  If she passes away, I think we get him a puppy.  I also think he is worried about retiring.  I am trying so hard to give him a chance to.   Jackie and I have been landlords for 5 years.  It is hard work sometimes, but we are good at it.  My kids have a great life, all those years of hard work you invested in your family is paying dividends.  I tell my kids about you, and how wonderful you were.  Sorry, but I tell Jackie all the time you were an amazing cook.  I miss your food.  I guess I always thought you would teach her all your secrets.  I had so many plans, and ideas, of you making cookies, and painting with grandkids.  Cancer stole you away from me.

 

I hope you are doing well, I love you.

I miss you.

I hope we will meet again someday.

 

-Zachary

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary Gilbert

Red Rose

by ZacharyWGilbert

The red rose,

its scent…  organic, pure.

its color… deep, soothing.

its feel…  soft, fragile.

its sight…   red, petals.

 

The red rose,

hopes for, loves renewal,

gains strength, outside of holidays,

lifts spirits, holds hearts,

and soothes souls.

 

The red rose,

passion takes shape,

loves, domestic currency,

paid in full,

as the petals fall.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

Color Wheel of Life

by ZacharyWGilbert

Tar on the pavement, hot and gooey, under the yellow sun.

Sunflowers sway in a warm breeze, yellow leaves, so fragile.

A traffic sign, hanging on a bent square poll, a yellow warning.

Deep in the ditch, beside the road, a mangled yellow car.

 

She was born, so small, scratch mittens,  boots, tiny and pink.

Her first room, a lady bug, a castle, the walls covered in pink.

That first father, daughter, dance.  Mom braided her hair, with pink ribbons.

I didn’t let her see me cry when she looked so lovely, in that pink prom dress.

 

My cell phone, wrapped in a black rubber case, rang on a snowy night.

My daughter, was back in town, her black purse, had been empty for months.

Her boyfriend, left her, with much, mush more than a blackened tattoo.

I told her I loved her, as I wrote, “She’s back!”  and showing my wife the black letters.

 

The snow was thick on the road, the night air was painful, as blue and red lights danced.

“Two occupants both dead”, the officer in blue told me, and wrote a few words in red.

My daughter picked up a hitchhiker, dressed in blue,  his hidden fingers, were red.

Deep in the ditch, beside the road, a mangled yellow car.

Blue eyes cry,  into a bloodshot red.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

Shifting Perspectives

by ZacharyWGilbert

 

“It’s got to be black, and have a standard transmission.  If I am going to buy a new mustang, then I am going to do it right.” my neck was hot, and my pulse throbbed in my temple.  “I like to have control, besides it looks cool.”

The salesman didn’t linger, he walked over to a lot tech, “Go and grab that black ECO-Boost from the back lot, I think we found it a home.”

After a three hour volley of negotiations, I finally agreed on a price.  After you buy a car, if the salesman looks like he wants to punch you, and the manager won’t talk to you anymore, you did good.  I could think of a thousand ways to spend a few extra hundred bucks, or a few hundred ways to spend an extra thousand bucks.

“I am in complete control of my life,” I smiled as I rolled down the street in my new fastback.  It smelled like new fabric, and clean rubber.  The radio was loud, it was June, I wouldn’t make it to the end of the year without 2 speeding tickets.

My mind was taking in the moment all around me.  “Better call the wife,” I dialed the phone.  I knew I was going to be in trouble.  There is a reason car dealerships don’t want you to call home to your wife.  She will shut the whole thing down.

“Uh oh,” she said over the phone.  I could feel her emotion over the phone, it was calming and supportive.

“Yeah, when you get home, I wanted to warn you about what is in the driveway.”

“It’s ok, you have been working hard, going back to school, a career change, you’ve earned it.”

“Ok cool! Thank you, I love you” I hung up the phone, I was happy.  I got to stay married and I get to keep on living.  When husbands draw out the ‘I love you’ statement, almost contorting it into a plea of mercy, then you know that they are really feeling guilty, but are glad they are gonna get away with it, this time.

The ‘whisp’ and ‘whoosh’ of the instant turbo boost is intoxicating.  Sammy Hagar is singing about how driving 55 is something, he may not be able to do.

At an intersection, I see a man sitting on a red bucket turned upside down.  The look on his face, takes my breath away.  He looks beaten, hopeless, tired, and ashamed.  The sun is hot today, the car says 94 degrees.  My heart breaks, I have spent my entire day, devoting myself to buying a car I wanted, and didn’t really need. I found a $20 in my wallet. I seemed to snap out of my capitalistic coma,  as I took it out.  I was going to get a burrito and some six dollar coffee, but now I have lost my appetite.  Was this guy, true to his image, or a conman earning an easy buck?  The question didn’t matter anymore.  I considered for a moment that God put me here, in this moment, and all I have to do is acknowledge that I am grateful.  After I hand him the money, his situation is between him and God.  I look at the rainbow glisten in the strip they sew into the money.  I crease it and put it in my left hand, I drive up slowly and stick the money out the window.

“Hey man,  God has blessed me way too much today, I think it is your turn.”

He smiled,  a glimmer grabbed hold of his eye, “God bless you!”

I tried to drive away, but the car lurched and stalled.

Maybe somethings in life, just need to be Automatic.

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