My Santiago

His Serendipity!

He obsesses over His luggage! His books, His trophies, His story, And his dog, Jake. He wonders, If he will “get the stuff through”, Through customs I assume he means. And I convince him that he will. He accepts And sits back content, Pacified for one moment! He dismisses his wife - he lectures her He controls her - he dotes on her He is rude - then he repents The cycle goes on!

But laughter is transient now.

He does smile and even laugh, With conviction, So that one is tempted to think that this time, It will right itself. It seems so normal! So like my father of old.

Then the blank stare, The anger, the incomprehension, And at lowest ebb, The sadness, the emptiness In his eyes!

There are questions he needs to ask, But how and of whom and what?

His life is captured, In our memories, Ironically, now spun back to him, By those who know. Reinvented, It gives him back memory for a brief space. Then the words, the stories, Simply tumble out,