My Father

Mi Padre, 2012 V. Ortiz Vazquez © Bears the mark since child birth Incognito until childhood Development blocks transformed part of his destiny Twin brother carries the severe load Not only does he stumble when speaking but also when walking Both deteriorating with the passing of Seconds, minutes, hours Days, weeks, months, years To remember the days when family went out for a jog To ride the memory lanes when outings took us to the mountains Rivers Lechón Asado Monitas, Crab hunting Mud beyond the ankles To peddle through strange terrain brings the day you taught me how to ride my bike Hanging on the tree’s branches Result of your way of teaching “You have two choices; break or crash,” you said Remember my swimming training? “You either swim or drown,” you stated as you threw me into the deep waters To this day, panic comes when I cannot touch the floor Next stage in my life a new lesson To learn how to drive 18 was I, a family friend my teacher this time Keeping in mind the words you said to me once “If you want to learn how to drive, watch what I do” So many words yet no practical techniques with them Formal education left you at an early age Life’s education provided you with lifelong lessons Handy man you became Trick of trades pass down to you Childhood road blocks no impediments to you Sharp mind even when learning was tough at times Hands no stranger to hard labor No competition to formal education Building your life’s traveling path one block at a time First, you stole my mom Your wife Second, came my brother Then, me and my sister To wake one day to learn of your demise Explanation to the changes within you No longer active Your hands no longer take pleasure of fixing things Captive between four walls Your mind Diagnosis of schizophrenia Johnny, Christian, Vadeline, Carlitos, Chadwick, Cody How long until you can no longer enjoy grandchild’s laugh? Touch? Conversations? Cheated you were, are Compensated with a wife, children, grandchildren Nurture with richness of a simple man Patiently I wait until the next time you say, “Tonta. Así no se hace” And, in your father’s role explain to me what I already know Don’t seem to understand To call you later and ask for your handy hands No time of waiting Refuse to part with slipping mind Sharp hands