Family Gathering

SIX FORTY-FIVE A.M. (FAMILY GATHERING) You knew I was scared Of flying almost as much As I was scared of you. Yet, you decided it was time For me to fly in and Watch you die. The phone rang at 6:45 a.m. What else could it be? You have been sick Forever. After twenty rings (I counted), I picked up The phone and my sister stated the obvious: He is dying. We are gathering the family. I said: This time for real? Because you had died at least once A month for the past six months And I had received nothing For my fear except useless Frequent flyer miles. You knew I’d come even though I hated family Gatherings almost as much as I hated Flying . . . you. I packed a small bag, Boarded the plane, and took four Xanax. I passed out for the duration of the flight And for the entire time it took you to die. Eventually, I traded my frequent flyer miles In for an i-Pod. And since your death I have refused to attend any family gatherings. I have not had to fly. I have not been scared. Copyrighted Jim Brewer April 28, 2011