A Man Full Of Love

A man full of love

showing hate and fear,

his hand on a bottle

his eyes shed a tear.

Surrounded through life

with family and blame,

through distorted eyes

all he sees is pain.

A mighty man

so big and strong,

what hurt him so

to make him go wrong.

A wife and son

who loved him true,

and yet a mystery

they never knew.

He gave me a gun

he gave me a knife,

what I wanted most

to be part of his life.

Our times were full

both good and bad,

now dead and gone

God, I miss my Dad.

I was yet small

when he went his way,

confused and hurt

I knew not what to say.

One thing he taught me

as a very young lad,

life can be

so unmercifully sad.

Gary R. Cramer

July 13, 1980

My Brave Little Texan

We each sat there silently with a sullen lackluster smile on our faces. We both knew she was dying from Cancer and the days were growing seemingly shorter now. It’s so very hard to keep a brave face on and not show the hidden tears that so eagerly want to spring forth like an Artesian well in the middle of a Texas winter storm. The unknown was hell.

Quite without warning and almost in a whisper, she asked, “What do you want?” I was so shocked at the question I asked her to repeat it. And she did, this time a bit louder. My heart stopped, as did the world around me. What did I want? She had shared her father, her mother her daughter and our two grandchildren with me. She had shared over 23 years of her life and love with me. What else could there be?

She could see I was struggling with the question so she offered an assist. “Promise me you’ll take care of Boo (her Lexus). I put aside the two ducks from my guest bath that match the one in your master bath. Remember, they came from Half Moon Bay and that cute little shop we like so much.” Remember them, of course I remember them. They remind me of her, her daughter and myself. And all the wonderful loving moments we shared together at the beaches in that area of the coast. I also remembered the print of the sea otters we bought in Half Moon Bay because it reminded me of my many days diving in Monterey Bay.

I thought of the two spirit rattles she had found on the plaza and after the divorce she had repeatedly offered one of them to me. But I insisted they needed to stay together because that’s where they belonged, together always and guarding over her spirit. They would come later…

I recalled the brass leaf bowl from Mondavi Winery I so lovingly admired and adored while working there. I remembered the day I took her to the tasting room and Jessica covertly wrapped up the one remaining one and winked at me as she passed it to Beth.

I remembered the fun trips to Mexico and bringing back Gabby on the airplane. I remember our lovebirds Sonja and Vernon (named from “Their Playing Our Song”) inside that same birdcage making noises nobody else believed.

There’s the ornate oil lamp I missed during Barbara’s estate sale, that perfect pasta maker I painstakingly searched out for her and she only used once but she was so damned cute doing it, her CD’s and my granny’s pressure cooker.

Each and every one of these “things” hold emotions and love in my heart for people I’ve loved but mostly for her. Trips full of laughter, songs we sang together, ice infused Stingers, walks on beaches, sunsets, holding hands, cuddling each other at night after making love and so very much more.

So what do I want, I want another 23 years. I want another chance. I want to make all the wrongs right. I want to make her pain go away. I want to take her place. I want to ride in on my steed and set her free. All because she made me a better person and I’ll love her forever. My brave little Texan! I love you!

Gary R. Cramer

May 16, 2015

Is Anyone Out There?

Is anyone out there

can’t you hear me at all?

Someone lend me a hand

help my spirits stand tall.

Rising high in the air

like the wings of a dove,

let my heart be free

to feel the lift of love.

Hidden deep in me

I feel this need,

it’s been hurting so long

it surely must bleed.

The voice of my soul

has gone hoarse with it’s call.

Is anyone out there

can’t you hear me at all?

Gary R. Cramer

June 25, 1980