To the best of my knowledge, I am an only child. Joan and George Grimm gave birth to a son named Max in October of 1962 and that was, as they say, that, period.
However, something happened, a contact was made at the beginning of spring 2011 that makes me question this. Not that I think my father was ever unfaithful or led a double life or other such clandestine activities, but someone made contact with me through the most innocent of vehicles, a facebook posting in the group 'If you grew up in North Miami Beach in the 1970s'. The initial message said, 'Max Grimm, I can't believe I finally found you...'
The rest is a story for another time. Mostly because I'm not yet ready to tell it and largely because I don't fully understand it and close to fully realize that our story has only just begun.
The weeks that followed that first contact found me at the computer corresponding with this person every night. Long tear streaked emails passed between us. I sat there wondering why I am bearing my soul to this stranger and she to me. I know the same applied to her. Always with tag lines like 'I can't believe just told you that'.
When I finally first heard her voice on the phone, I said 'Oh my God, is this you?
This is a woman who is the closest one I've ever called my sister. By soul or by blood matters not, to me, she is family. Always was, I just didn't know it until recently.
A part of my heart and soul was restored to me that I never knew was ever missing.
Each day I give thanks for her in my life and wonder, what would a good brother do now?
In an attempt to answer that question, as I often do, I wrote a poem. It is about the childhood we never shared and the estranged siblings we never became, as it seems to have become so much of a disquieting ratio of my own blood relations.
I want to run with you
in dizzying spirals
creating breathless whirlwinds
regaling laughter resounding
from our secret hilltop kingdom
until we surrender and collapse
to the sloping descent
rolling upon effervescent green hilltops
squealing and hurling our rag doll selfs
into valleys of summertime
waiting endlessly below
Scribbling secret codex
in margins of textbooks
unraveling their mysteries
freeing our precocious brains
to plan unseen adventures
pirate ships and secret agents
with dragons to slay
and criminals to apprehend
to hide and go seek
until you find me
sequestered and giggling
unable to wait
until you find me again.
Swinging on ropes
twined around rhapsodies of branches
above the shimmering river
where we witness
one another flying
above its surface
just before releasing its braids
shortly before
creating cascades
plumes
and concentric circles
on its liquid mirror
much delighting
minnows and tadpoles
You taking my hand
on the journeys for Halloween candy
and sheltering me
from the bombardment
of Independence day fireworks
rushings to near missed school busses
long nights of influenza
masses on Sunday
when we would say to each other
'peace be with you'
'and also with you'
Me hating your first boyfriend
for taking my best friend away
My new best friend I found
when you first fell
really in love
who awashed you
in a kind of happiness
I had never seen you
drenched
in such
before.
Then weddings and babies
grandparents and uncles
aunts and new siblings
small feet and sleepless nights
occasional phone calls
Thanksgiving
christmas cards
quick emails
dissolving to
damn
I think of her
so often
I really
must call
God
I hope
she is OK
Does she fell the same?
Hell no
after all
the phone works
both ways
I'll adore from a distance
and wish her the best
even if she
has forgotten me
and recall our secret
hilltop kingdom
catching raindrops
on our laugh stretched tongues
daring and egging each other
to run into the rain
face to the sky
to catch clouds
in our mouths
then return beneath the awning
where we huddled
damning the downpouring
onslaught
realizing
there is no one
who will ever be
you
to me
sister
Your precious sweet face
ancestral blue eyes
are tattooed
on the soul
of my heart
for the next
million
lifetimes
until we are
absorbed
into the stars.
All my love, always and forever,
Max
PS On 10/23/2011 The very kind gentleman, Mr Kodac Harrison invited me to be the featured poet at 'Java Monkey Speaks'. A weekly open mic session going on in Atlanta for over 10 years. The honor and privilege was very humbling, to say the least. The crowd was so kind, the weather was lovely. To be a small part the legacy My Harrison is creating swells me with happiness. It was the first time my kids ever sat through an evening of Dad reading his poetry. The link attached is the conclusion of my readings for the night. Over the next bit of time I will gradually share bits of this video document. Kelley, my love, thank you for the camera work.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1O7MtGWmSTQ
Make no mistake, I love this sharing of my soul with you all. Thank you so very much.
Max
fate is curious
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