Memories, Part 1

Pictures so fleeting

they come and they go,

of a lonely childhood

such a long time ago.

Memories of joy

and a share of fears,

bits and pieces

from those many years.

A family of four

and then we were three,

traveling down a road

that no one could see.

I recall a time

maybe I was five,

we followed dad north

where he worked in a dive.

It must have been Winter

because I remember the rain,

a tiny motel room where

she left me with tears that would stain.

She said she’d be back

she wouldn’t be long,

I stood on the seat

watching until she was gone.

Through the bathroom window

on a toilet I stood,

crying and screaming

knowing it didn’t feel very good.

It was dark and cold

and the rain came down,

she walked to a bar

in some strange town.

She had tracked him down

I don’t know how,

but she went to see him

and I was all alone now.

For a little boy

it was a terrible time,

trying to be brave

amidst the motel grime.

I fell asleep all curled up

on the floor in a ball,

I heard her come in

but she wasn’t happy at all.

She picked my up

and put me to bed,

she said she loved me

and that was all that was said.

The next day came

with no warming sun,

she said it’s alright

and we’d have some fun.

Later that day

we went to the bar,

where he worked pouring drinks

there were eggs in a jar.

He gave me a hug

with tears in his eyes,

while mom just smiled

and gave a big sigh.

He made me a drink

it was something pink,

a Roy Rogers

he called it I think.

He gave me some coins

and set me at a game,

as bears went back and forth

I’d shoot them with my aim.

Each time I’d hit them

they would give out a roar,

and I’d yell at my dad

daddy I got more.

He gave me a bowl of special cherries

when I was finally done,

I told mom she was right

we were having fun.

I can’t remember

when we came back home,

if we were all together

or mom and me alone.

All I know in the end

is that my dad came home,

and nights in my bed

I didn’t feel so alone.

That’s just one memory

I recall in my past,

there was good and bad

they would never last.

Some have told me

I was abused as a child,

now both parents are dead

the past seems so mild.

I wish the years had given

us more time to share,

because family is important

and missed when not there.

For better or worse

they gave it their all,

they did their best

better than nothing at all.

Pictures so fleeting

they come and they go,

of a lonely childhood

such a long time ago.

Gary Cramer

October 11, 2009