in memory of my fictive father

December 11, 2018 at 10:44 am Leave a comment

In Memory of my Fictive Father

i bear your name,
yes, but
like a scar
not like a blazon
____________________________________________________
*Note; I finally ‘made contact with him’. [I made contact with my biological father & half-siblings in my sixties; I never bore his name.  My fictive father is my adopted father.] He was in the terminal phase of Alzheimer’s. His children found my existence (as his other and unmentioned child) unnerving and unlikely at the beginning, intolerable and impossible at the end. Since the connection was made by my wife via one of the gene-testing places [yes, the implied is the existent; how else?], I certainly had no part in the cause–which was in fact long past, if you want to get down to it, but in this cause the cause for the supposition of any connection between all of us. I’d even neglected to contact them, oddly enough, at 60-some-odd and with a habit of avoiding; one of them contacted me (she vehemently declaimed that I was a mistake, later; my mother would have agreed much of my life). I was born during the formal Occupation of Hitler’s Germany (yes, that one that persists* in a number of places; this was 1953)
*Calling it The Occupation openly is somewhat dangerous, potentially. To the obvious question, hard to tell, I don’t know, um…, perspective is generally drawn from methodology,

Entry filed under: new poetry, poetry. Tags: , .

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