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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Forty-seven years ago I went abroad for college, then - after graduation - chose to live across the sea. I called my parents often, and I mailed them many cards, but rarely made the trip back home, which deeply bothers me. Mom and Dad had both worked hard to pay my way through school. The college was a fine one, but, alas, so far away. I returned to see them only twice in nineteen years! What I wouldn’t give to have them here with me today. Strolling through this attic I am fighting back the tears, just as I have done throughout the many years gone by. Objects from my childhood days are everywhere I look, and as the mem'ries slip into my heart, I start to cry. Despite my eyes are somewhat blurred, I quickly spot a friend I often held to keep me feeling safe when I was scared. A scraggly, one-eyed teddy bear, whose name, of course, was “Wink"...and over in the corner stands the stroller that we shared. Wink was there to comfort me when Grandpa passed away. Then Grandma, too…he never let me down when someone died. I’m sure that little stroller seemed a rolling-king-size-bed when Mom, on lovely summer days, would take us for a ride. There’s the wind-up phonograph that proudly graced the parlor, and there’s the great big, dovetailed box of records Dad would play. Most of them are symphonies. A pretty good collection, but prob’ly not a lot of tunes that folks would know today. There’s the tiny trike I got, I think, when I was three…my mode of transportation on a hundred million trips, And I recall the ride I had to give to Bonnie Kelsey to make her say, “I love you,” and then kiss me…on the lips! There’s the cast iron bank in which I’d put what I was given for doing chores and losing teeth, but - when I’d get a dime - Which - back then - would buy an ice cold soda - I confess…it wound up in a pop machine - downtown - from time to time. Look at that old rocking horse. Now, that’s a lovely mem’ry. I can actually see me with my cowboy hat and gun. And there’s the rusty wagon that I pulled behind my trike. Can’t believe I had so many ways for having fun. There’s the cage our hamster called its home for several years. “Walker” was a runnin’ little fool when he’d escape. I can still remember when I got myself in trouble for working on a way to put a bell on him - with tape! Seemed to me a great idea. My folks did not agree. As I recall, they grounded me for what I’d tried to do. Thinking back, I must admit, it was a little dumb…and if I had the chance to do it over....I’d use glue! Well, look at that. I can’t believe they kept that worthless vacuum. She got that thing from Grandma! It’s a genuine antique. When Dad brought home a new electric model she was thrilled. Half our house is carpeted…and Mom cleaned every week. Oh, my gosh, I can’t imagine why they’d keep this dresser. Most the knobs are missing, and the wheels are locked up tight. Must have been for sentimental reasons, I suppose, ‘cause - as is sits - you’d have to do a lot to make it right. And that right there is what they called - when I was young - a “wireless.” Mom and Dad would sometimes dance when romantic songs were played. The tubes were always going bad. I’ll bet it doesn’t work, seeing how the lens is cracked - and the cord is badly frayed. And there’s the pea green highchair where I ate that good old “Pablum”. I can easily picture me, with tiny spoon and bib, Usually needing - after I was done - a thorough cleaning…then Mom would sing some lullabies - and lay me in my crib. And there it is! The tiny bed I slept in, as a youngster. Not as big and fancy as the ones they have today, But nonetheless I feel my childhood days were quite superb, and I would never want to have them changed in any way. Still, despite these happy mem’ries, half the tears I’m shedding fall because my selfish heart is aching deep inside. How I wish that I’d come home to see my folks more often, and been there in their final hours to hold them…as they died. Looking ‘round the attic one last time, the sweet reminders fill my lonely soul with thoughts…some beautiful…some sad, But as I leave, I’m thankful for the solace that I’ve found for having spent this really precious time with…Mom and Dad. PS: I've now got 4 new Audio-CDs to offer my poetry fans- @ 4 1/2 hours each = (62 diversely varied pieces). They’re listed on EBAY - under - “Mark Stellinga Poetry” - or available by simply contacting me at -- mark@writerofbooks.com -- should those of you who enjoy listening to poems as well as reading them - and particularly those of you who travel - care to be so entertained. (We use safe and simple - PayPal) Cheers, Mark
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