Aging – The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff

Dad’s Fading Away

Like leaves falling off of trees with the advance of winter

my Dad’s memories are caught up in the winds of change

as he struggles to remember my name

I watch his eyes wander off to other times

back to the “good old days”

when he was young and viral

a proud Marine and father of three

he will always be

my hero

sometimes his eyes are clear and when he looks at me

I can see the man he use to be even though he’s ninety-three

sometimes suddenly he talks rationally

but those days are fading away

as I watch him every day

waiting for a miracle to come his way

I wait

and pray

***

Interview With an Old Cat

Bob the Cat was interviewed one day

by a curious kitten

who wouldn’t stay away

“How did your ears get that way?“

But Bob wouldn’t say

“How old are you?”

Bob told him to go away

“What do you do all day?”

Bob replied “Skip the survey”

the kitten finally had to concede

the old grouch wouldn’t proceed

and there’d be no interview

no wise worldview

from an old cat

like that

***

A Dime for an Epiphany

If I had dime for every epiphany

that I’ve had

it would add

up to a lot of money

however

remembering

those moments of inspiration

when something became clear

never lingered long enough

for them to physically appear

alas! my fleeting epiphanies

will never persevere

He rocks back-and-forth on the rickety wicker porch chair. He’s everyman, late in life with wrinkles distorting a once smooth face, and body. His life wasn’t spent seeking redemption in real time. His subconsciousness never gave a hint of being interested in the subject.

Memories did sometimes rudely intrude upon his daily routine and reality. As a combat veteran he was intimately acquainted with death. The sight. The smell. The moment he fired at a human being. The horror.

But he just keeps on rocking in his wicker chair every day, a modern response to Old Man River who just kept rolling on.

He isn’t plagued with regrets on not being “saved” by any religion, or by being led to redemption like a sheep on the way to being sheared.

Freedom is his redemption for being alive and having survived many perilous times in his long life. His arthritis a badge of honor. His physical scars medals earned during a long life of adventures. His silver hair a crown of achievement.

He makes no claims of having redeemed others from sins and stupid moves in their lives. He never wanted to lead others to the top of any proverbial mountain. He’s unaware of ever being anyone’s leading light in life.

He just keeps on rocking in his wicker chair every day, a modern response to Old Man River who just kept rolling on.

the end

Affairs of the Imagination

it’s always been there…

my flirtation

with a runaway imagination

a cozy affair unhindered by reality

everything I wanted it to be

worlds opened like oysters

in the fertile fields of my mind

mysteries solved uninhibited

access to a fantasy land

that does not sleep or confine

the affairs in my imagination

which are open for all to see

my ideas wander on the verge of reality

I know the end will come for me

soon enough my body will be free

to fly where my imagination

can’t currently see

With These Eyes

I can tell when people tell lies

with these eyes

their body movements a tell

making it easy to see

for an old man like me

decades of experience resides

compartmentally

in my brain

lurking behind my tired eyes

I’ve seen the horror

of war

I keep it behind a door

behind these eyes

I look forward

to each new day

putting aside yesterday

a daily exercise

behind these

still alert

eyes

Ain’t It Grand?

I knew an old lady who use to say

“Ain’t it grand?“

Every day

about subjects big and small

on local people

and the town hall

her positive attitude

on all subjects

earned everyone’s gratitude

and the local newspaper ran

her column about the community

and her love for this land

readers looked forward every week

to read about their town’s activities

that were so unique

alas!

all good things come to an end

but she’ll always be remembered

as a godsend

Portrait

it hung in the light from a nearby window

a black and white portrait of an old man

with wise eyes and a flowing beard

he was an elder and he was revered

oh, the stories he could tell

if he hadn’t died and went to hell!

Diary Reverie

the writer waited until he hit a century

before releasing the rights to his diary

while flipping through the pages one night

his still-active imagination took flight

and he was a young man again

as far as he could ascertain

and a young lady came near

and whispered in his ear

they went for a walk

and had a lovely talk

and

when the writer’s son

came to visit the next day

the old man had passed away

with a smile on his face

that showed

he was in a better place

Requiem for a Hoarder

decades of newspapers and magazines cluttered every room, silent witnesses to bygone eras, nestled alongside a lifetime of eclectic collections in the gathering gloom

when the coroner came to collect the old man, his worn-out body in his favorite chair in front of a fan, he was surrounded with trinkets and displays from his good old days

every room was piled high with one man’s treasure yet another man’s junk, standing lamps, piles of clothes from ages past that stunk worse than a skunk

boxes and crates with no labels butted against couches and tables, towers of books with subjects ranging from science to early fables, rolls of cables, and an assortment of turntables

souvenirs from other countries, plastic children’s toys that still made noise, clocks off all kinds, dried food, ancient weather vines, and assorted other sundries

missing were photos of family, a lonely man severed from humanity, living in an alternate reality, his life a mere triviality, his collections becoming his center of gravity

they said the old man had a mental disorder, a condition not unknown to many people trying to install order into their chaotic life, and turning into a hoarder

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Category: Aging

Dad’s Fading Away

Interview With an Old Cat

A Dime for an Epiphany

A Brief Look at Redemption

Affairs of the Imagination

With These Eyes

Ain’t It Grand?

Portrait

Diary Reverie

Requiem for a Hoarder

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