I wrote this at a memorial at Descanso gardens on the 25th anniversary of my Dad’s passing.

Ten people
in a circle,
talking about
a long ago
man, his secrets,
his handsomeness,
his intelligence.
Son and daughters
and grandchildren with
different memories of
him.  What would it have
been like if we
really knew him,
the real him,
not the booze soaked
man, or the teenager
sleeping with an axe
under his pillow,
protecting his Mom
from his Dad.
A man who held
people at bay,
a man who revealed
only so much.
A genius, an engineer,
a charmer from the
outside.  A loner,
a drinker, a hurt
child, a lover
of travel and
culture, and a
space engineer
whose space capsule
is still orbiting around in
space.  All missed,
as we stand I look at my
children, a sadness
that he didn’t ever get
to meet my brother’s
boys, who would carry
on his name.
We laugh too,
at his habits
his ladies man ways,
his gardening obsessions,
toastmasters, and even more
so his love of food and his
pride in us.
His talk of Zen and his talent,
his beautiful handwriting,
and the incredible advances
he made in space engineering
and getting information from
space.  Still ice cubes
clinked, bourbon and
beer went down easily.
We lost him to it
25 years ago today,
we tried to hold on,
but were forced to learn
to let go.
The plaque in Descanso
gone now, reminding us
of just how long it has been
since he left us.  We are your
proud children, mourning
with sadness and also with
smiles of good memories of you.

10-21-2017  Jewel Roberts