Mercurochrome’s bandage

 Bandages are sometimes easier to rip off, hurting like hell for a moment.Every fall, cut, scrape remembered, then you remember every, “it’s all better.” Not necessarily better, but good, you understand the “better.” Grace

‘ mercurochrome’s bandage’ Trgates,9/2922024
no one answering the door,
“you know you don’t need to knock.”
walking into where you once
played, fought, ate with
brothers and sister,
where the comfort and fear
of Daddy’s hands spoke louder,
where Mother’s guilelessness
and applause
gave confidence, yet excused betrayal,
you still look around the corner
at his empty chair,
and anticipate her litany
of the marvel of the grandkids.
“just build my mansion
next door to Jesus,
and tell my Mother
I’m coming home,”
silly gospel tune
still silly,
yet you understand the sentiment.
Dad worked seventy plus hours weekly,
Mother worked in the house,
and outside of it,
still there when
readying for school,
and arriving home —
I once offered to one of my children,
“the joy of parenting
is found in the opportunity to fail,”
where love’s success
remembers every
bandage and mercurochrome burn,
and kiss to make it better.
“Hank’s tunes” are found
in that empty chair today,
her “that’s life,” is just lived.
and the choirs play on.