Cetywa Powell

New Jersey man


San Francisco. Summer. Back a few years.

Last memories of my father.

Horrible.


Horrible.


My oldest brother's wedding--

Cause to unite the family for the first time in

twelve years.


A plane north from smog-town

into the bay area

greeted by my sister

who will take me to meet the man


two hours later

stomach churning

waiting in my sister's living-room for the doorbell to ring

for my father

to be on the other side.


Nervous conversation

intermittent glances at the door

sudden itching on my right hand

Stress levels: acutely high


The door-bell.


The silence.


Then the meeting.


what should I have said to a dying man

what should I have done

other than stare

other than swallow the shock of his physical deterioration

other than cry later that night

alone


'cuz to see the defeat

the self-destruction

the deterioration of a parent is mind-numbing.



The little things first

the dentures.

no shock there.

just neglected teeth over a span of forty years

turned brown from alcohol and stomach acid.

The rot was beyond repair

"Everything must go," the family dentist said.

'It's a clearance sale for teeth."


next, the not so little things

the slightly paralyzed right arm

(remnants from a minor stroke)

the slight limp

(a fall he took when he was drunk or maybe the street was badly lit)

a problem with his right eye

(again, the stroke)


But then the symptoms.

Jesus, the symptoms.


Yellow, murky eyes (alcoholism)

Trembling hands (alcoholism)

Swollen ankles (alcoholism)

Diapers (alcoholism)


He was 63.


Aside, the exponential deterioration is explained

my mother gives us the low-down.

said the vomiting was worse

not just confined to the bathroom

now it was at the dinner-table, the computer, anywhere.

said the loss of bladder control was over a one-year period

said the diapers were necessary

to save face.


My sister, a registered nurse, nods at the sound of diapers

good call

my brothers and I are mute.


What do you say?

Really?


to a disappointed and dying alcoholic

who knew his time had come.

who had taken a psychological dive when he penned the words

"I know they've been good times

but I can't remember any."


What do you say?


Back in smog-town. City of angels.

drenched in summer heat

I think about what's gonna happen next.


Maybe--

the call will come in the middle of the night

to say he's vomiting blood.

to say he's choked on his own vomit.

to say…


He's dead.  He had a stroke.

When?

Eleven p.m. At the dinner table. At home.

Alone.


To say…

The paramedics found his body still warm, found something in his throat.

A stroke. Or choking.

Autopsy's not out on that one.


To say...

(my brother's shocked voice over the phone..."I don't know how to say this...I just got home and found him at the table... with his head back... ")


To say...

He died.  My God, he died.


Alone.





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