Portal

Something opens up when one faces his father’s death – even the possibility of death. When I went down to see my parents one Christmas, my father was too sick to get out of bed for any length of time.  It became apparent that he needed to go to the hospital.  It was then that we found out it was his heart.

The first doctor doubted that he was a candidate for surgery, but then the surgeon told Dad the odds. There was a chance he would not make it through the operation, but a greater chance that he would not make it without surgery. Dad opted for surgery.

During the days that followed, it was as if I were once again waiting for my father’s return. My mind went back to childhood moments of anticipating the hour when Dad would come home. This time, though, it was a trip from which he may never come back. The days of waiting held moments of crystal-clear memory, like a portal to the past. The waiting also brought questions about the future.

Early one morning while driving to the hospital, a bright crescent moon came into view as I turned onto the highway. I was suddenly taken by its beauty and for one brief moment felt nothing but joy.

one small arc of light

shines from a thin crescent moon

like a door ajar

Venus and the Crescent Moon by David Lee

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*For notes on writing haibun, see yesterday's post.


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